


What You'd Find Buried in the Dirt Under Charles F. Kettering Sr. High School

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Series: American Dreamers [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, And Also Hannibal, Animals Love Will Graham, Bedelia as a mom, Being Saved By Your Pet, Bullying, Caretaking, Charlie Brown Reference, Children Getting Married, Chiyoh the Caretaker, Costumes, Custody Battle, Cute, Divorce, Elementary School, Elementary School Mysteries, Elementary School Weddings, Empathy, European Shoulder Bags, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff, Frederick Chilton Being Himself, Friendship, Fun Facts, Gen, Hannibal is smitten, Hannibals Mom to Be Exact, I promise., Kid Hannibal, Kid Will, Lawn Care, Lithuanian, M/M, Magic School Bus Reference, Marriage, Mason Verger's Fragile Masculinity, Mentions of Mischa's death, Mentions of the Nightmare Stag, Mostly cute and sweet, One Girl Always Loves Horses, Petty Theft, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reminiscing, School Assemblies, Seeds of Romance, Sleepovers, Small Children with Good Taste, Social Issues, Someone Help Will Graham, Teacher Jack Crawford, Thanksgiving, Trick or Treating, Will Dresses as a Fish, grandmas, literally and metaphorically, money issues, petting zoos, pumpkin patch, swingsets, will is precious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-11-12 16:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 51,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: It's the start of a new year of kindergarten for everyone's favorite FBI crew.In which, Hannibal Lecter is nervous: its hard to make friends when you don't talk much. In which Will Graham doesn't much see the point in trying to make friends when everyone thinks he's weird and Winston is already his friend. In which Beverly Katz is determined to read the biggest book in the library by Christmas, and in which Mason Verger sees an opportunity at recess.A series of misadventures, best friends, and the always wild imagination of Will GrahamNamed after a poem by Francine J. Harris





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! I hope you enjoy this little delve into some child fun and fluff for everyone's favorite cannibal. Not sure how this will go exactly, but I hope you have fun with it regardless! Please R and R y'all, hope you enjoy!

“Hi, there.” He blinked up at a large man, well-dressed and smiling with somewhat crooked teeth. Not that he minded his teeth, he had often run his fingers over his own, wondering why they seemed so sharp. It was nice to have someone who didn’t look so perfect try to talk to him. “What’s your name?”

“His name is Hannibal.” He heard his mother say. Bedelia. He had been taught to say her name early, so that when he introduced her, it was never, “this is mommy.” Or “this is my mommy.” It was always, “This is my mother, Bedelia.” She had told him that to simply tell someone her name was mother or mom or, heaven-forbid, mommy, was not only inaccurate as she wasn’t their mother, but also quite rude. And he never, ever, wanted to be rude. “He’s a man of few words, I’m afraid.”

Hannibal curled his mouth as best he could into a little smile, trying not to show his teeth when he saw a dark-haired girl peeking through the door at him. The last girl he had tried to befriend had cried when he smiled at her. Again with the teeth, and the “severe features” his mother blamed on a now-absent father even though everyone said he looked like her.

“Hello, Hannibal.” The man said, and his voice was thankfully free of any attempted kiddie talk. “I’m Jack Crawford, I’ll be your teacher this year. Most of the children call me Mr. Jack, but you can call me whatever you feel comfortable saying.” A glance at Bedelia confirmed that he would be referring to him as Mr. Crawford from this moment on, if he ever bothered to address him at all. He nodded slightly.

“I have a couple of questions, Mr. Crawford.”

“Of course.” He looked at Hannibal. “Why don’t you go look around the room Hannibal, you can see where you’ll be sitting and where everything is this year.” Hannibal nodded again, knowing he had been dismissed. Bedelia had often used phrases like that on him, when she wanted him out of the room to drink wine with her colleagues, or when she wanted to discuss him and his many quirks. That’s what she called them: quirks. He knew better.

The room was decorated simply, covered in letters and numbers that he already knew, but not in the same obnoxious color palette he had seen in the room across the hall with the old lady who smelled like too much Dove soap and Pine-Sol as he walked by. He found his desk, with H-A-N-N-I-B-A-L written in very straight, block letters that a less-developed child might have needed to spell their name. Hannibal tried to smile, at least it didn’t have the fake smiling stars, or the little stick figure boys and girls and others he had seen throughout his pre-school days: it was the stars and galaxies, and he touched his finger to the small Saturn that hovered over the first A and actually felt a little excited. Mr. Crawford seemed nice at least.

Bedelia was talking in her quiet voice. That meant she was talking about him when he was still within earshot, something he had learned long ago. He pretended to concentrate on the reading corner that was practically a shrine to Dr. Seuss, and instead listened intently to what she was saying.

“Hannibal is quite brilliant, far beyond the capacity of his peers.” He couldn’t help but glance up at Mr. Crawford, whose expression was one of someone who had heard that a million times before. But he didn’t know Hannibal, and he didn’t know Bedelia, who certainly would not lie on his behalf. “You don’t have to believe me, Mr. Crawford, in order for it to be true. But I’m trying to make this easier on you. Hannibal is brilliant…but he is different.”

“All children are unique.” Mr. Crawford said, and Hannibal did smile at his attempt to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Then that means none of them are.” Bedelia responded instantly. “Hannibal has some social issues, serious ones. Brought on by trauma.”

That caught Mr. Crawford’s attention. And Hannibal blushed, tugging at his shirt sleeves. “What do you mean, Mrs. Lecter?”

“It’s Dr. du Maurier, actually.” Hannibal smirked at that. Bedelia had made it clear that they didn’t have the same last name, and that they never would. He was named for his father, and her name was her own.  Mr. Crawford lifted his hands in an apology, urging her to continue. “Hannibal witnessed the death of his younger sister, my second child, when he was four years old. He has trouble with verbalizing, with emotions. He is kind, but he doesn’t know that he is. He will excel in class, but I can guarantee you nothing else.”

“It’s kindergarten, Dr. du Maurier, I think he will make it.” Hannibal smiled, happy to have someone confident in him for a change.

 

 

Will Graham tucked himself neatly behind his father, his body almost completely obscured by the man’s heavy cargo pants. “Come on, bud. You’ll make lots of new friends.” It had taken the promise of another stuffed dog with their next paycheck to get Will to stop staring at him in wistful silence everytime he mentioned Open House. Another small expense, but worth it if the little boy might make a friend.

Will wasn’t sure why he needed a friend, to be honest. He had his daddy, and Winston who he snuck enough treats that his belly stayed soft and mushy whenever Will needed a good nap. He had his crayons that were cracked and broken but still drew perfectly well on the back of boat repair orders and maintenance logs. And he had his little stuffed animals, who had never said anything mean to him unlike the other kids on his first day of preschool last year, who were mean because he had to wear glasses and they didn’t. He didn’t much see the point of friends, especially when it seemed like they all just wanted to run around or be loud or push each other too hard on the playground. He needed peace.

He was waiting in line to meet his new kindergarten teacher, Mr. Crawford. His daddy had promised this would be the last time they moved, but he really didn’t care since at his last school, the preschool teacher thought he was stupid because he didn’t want to answer her dumb questions. Tomorrow he would start school here, and as he watched with big blue eyes around his daddy’s pants, everyone walked by him with their parents. Older students with big backpacks, younger students with theirs decorated with ninja turtles or Pokémon. Will thought of his own little bag, it was dark green, made of the same material as a parachute; his daddy had gotten it at the army surplus store, and Will had loved it because the man had one that matched. But it made him different again, not that he cared.

“I think we’re up next.” His daddy said, reaching down to run a hand through his hair. He smelled like the garage and the old Camry they drove, all mixed together. Will smiled, pushing his glasses back up on his face, trying not to think of tomorrow, when he would be here by himself. Whoever was in there now was taking a very long time, and Will was waiting on the dark-haired girl who kept trying to peek inside to finally say something to him since she had been staring at him with a mischievous smile for several minutes. He wished they would hurry up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hannibal.” He heard a deep voice say, and Will looked up at what had to be Mr. Crawford, dressed like his daddy had when he went on a date with a not-very-nice lady a few months ago. Will watched as a blonde woman who wasn’t smiling stepped out of the room, holding a clipboard. He might have thought she was the teacher if a little boy, who nodded silently at the teacher behind him, hadn’t followed her out. He looked straight ahead, eyes glancing over his future classmates with genuine interest. Will caught his gaze, a color not found even in his Crayola mega-pack, and he could feel the fear and nervousness from him.

His gaze flickered away, and the little blonde boy left, reaching up for his mother’s hand before he put it down after she gave him a slight frown. The boy was in almost a suit, dressed up like an adult might. Will looked down at his own clothes: blue jeans he’s had for a long time since he never seemed to get any taller no matter how many vegetables he ate, and a soft flannel shirt that matched his daddy’s. Nothing like this boy, who spared one more glance at Will, his lips curling up softly into what Will knew was an attempt at a smile.

“Kit Graham.” His concentration shifted to his daddy, who shook Mr. Crawford’s hand. “This is my son, Will.”

“Come in.” The man said, “I’m Jack Crawford.” After the door shut, he turned his attention to Will. “You can call me Mr. Jack, Mr. Crawford, whatever you’re comfortable with, Wil.”

“Okay, Mr. Crawford.” Will tried to make his voice sound strong like his daddy’s, and while it was a valiant effort, it was to little avail.

“Why don’t you go look around the room, Will, why I talk to your father?” Will nodded, letting go of his father’s pants to find that his hands were slick and sweaty, so he rubbed them off on his shirt. He could hear them talking, knowing his daddy was probably telling Mr. Crawford about the issues he had in preschool, or maybe how he liked books instead of kickball, or how he could sometimes feel what other people were feeling, even though he didn’t know why. Or maybe he was talking about basketball, Will was sure that Mr. Crawford probably liked basketball and daddy certainly did.

He looked around the room, decorated with stars and planets and trees. It was so different from his preschool, and he smiled, happy to be away from all those fake decorations that always smiled at him, even when he wasn’t happy and didn’t want them to smile at him.

He found his name, W-I-L-L-I-A-M, in little block letters on a desk. He looked at the people around him, who his father thought might be his friends. B-E-V-E-R-L-Y and H-A-N-N-I-B-A-L and B-R-I-A-N and M-A-S-O-N. He had heard all of those names before except for Hannibal. Maybe they were nice anyway, since he already knew one nice Beverly who was his father’s aunt and gave him butter cookies for Christmas, and one mean Brian who had pushed him once for not freezing enough during Freeze tag and one Mason who he wasn’t sure about since he had never said anything to him at all. Maybe these would be different.

He walked over to the books, ignoring the brightly colored ones and looking for something with chapters in it. All he found was Frog and Toad, which he had read at least four times. This was not shaping up to be a great time, even if this new Brian and Beverly and Mason and this completely new Hannibal did turn out to be nice after all.

“Okay, Will, you ready to go, I’ve got to back and work on that Chevy for tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Will agreed, smiling up at Mr. Crawford, though he managed to avoid his eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Will.” The man said nicely as he held the door for them and finally let in that dark-haired girl who Will had decided was not so good at waiting her turn.

He kept clinging to the back of his daddy’s legs as they walked out, wondering what the next day might bring.


	2. Chapter 2

Will stretched out his legs, the tips of his feet barely catching on the desk in front of him. He hoped Beverly wouldn’t be mad, he had learned in preschool that putting his feet up on someone’s desk was the only way to keep from kicking. And he didn’t want to accidentally kick someone on his first day. From what he had learned, that was something you did only after you’d been friends for a long time, didn’t like someone at all, or if you were an old car engine that just wouldn’t turn on right. Beverly did not fit any of those categories, at least not yet.

She was the dark-haired girl who had been looking at him when they were both outside, but right now she was talking to Brian, whose hair looked like a Brillo pad without the soap. Will wondered if he knew that, or it would be mean to mention it. Did people like being compared to Brillo pads? He wasn’t sure. It was probably best not to mention it, and besides, he didn’t think he could get a word in with how much Brian was talking. Will couldn’t help but laugh at him though, unlike mean Brian, this one at least seemed pretty funny.

Will looked around before remembering he was trying not to look at Mason. Will knew he was weird, but Mason…something was wrong with Mason. When Will had come to sit down in his seat, Mason had laughed at his backpack and his brown paper sack that he had his lunch in. will had actually looked into his eyes, thinking about what his daddy had said that sometimes mean kids were just sad, but he didn’t feel any sadness coming from Mason, only mean things. Even now, he could see him sneering at him through the corner of his eyes, waiting on Will to look over at him, or to catch him off guard and do something to him. What it was, Will couldn’t guess, maybe stab him with the fancy scissors he had brought in to class which were still in the package and the blades were actually metal. Will hoped that wasn’t the plan; getting stabbed by scissors didn’t seem much fun and he could only imagine trying to explain that to his daddy after it had taken him nearly an hour to explain why a girl in his preschool class had tried to pierce his ear and instead he had ended up covered in pudding last year.

Will sank into his seat, doing his best to ignore Beverly’s smiles back at him as whatever Brian was saying became less and less interesting to her and she wanted to talk to Will. Not that Brian minded, another little boy, Jimmy, seemed to be very quickly becoming Brian’s new friend since they both had matching Elmo T-shirts. Will’s own shirt had a fish on it, but he hadn’t seen anyone else with one: it was proving difficult again to make friends.

The door opened, and Will looked up as another little boy came into class, escorted by an older, severe looking Japanese woman who said nothing to him as she left. Mr. Crawford smiled at him, the same little boy Will had seen leaving the room the night before, and gestured his arm for him to sit before class started in a few minutes. There were only two empty seats, one in the front next to a girl who had happily told Will she was blind when he came in, and the one next to Will, reserved for H-A-N-N-I-B-A-L.

The boy came closer to him, giving Will that same little smile he had the night before, his lips curling strangely in his mouth as if he didn’t quite know how to do it. Will reasoned that maybe that was why some classrooms had all of the ugly, smiling stars. Some people weren’t too good at it. At least he was trying to be nice.

He moved over to the desk. “Is that a purse?” He heard Mason sneer at him. The boys backpack was flung over his shoulder and hung on his hip like a purse, but Will thought it was pretty. It was brown, had little buckles and pockets, and matched the boy’s shoes which looked like the ones Will wore to church when his daddy remembered that they were supposed to go. “Purses are for girls.”

The boy didn’t say anything, but he did narrow his eyes at Mason as he sat down, reaching in to take a little journal out his bag and a pack of pencils that were perfectly sharpened.  He put them on his desk, seemingly to ignore Mason. “Hey,” Mason said a little louder, and Brian and Beverly actually stopped talking to look at them. “I asked you a question. What’s your name?”

The boy seemed as determined to ignore him as much as Mason was determined to get his attention. He reached over Will to pull on the boys jacket, which wrinkled under what Will knew must be sticky fingers. He could tell Mason was getting angrier, and could see the uncertainty from Brian and Beverly about what to do.

“Are you stupid or something?” Jimmy gasped since he had turned around, too, at Mason’s strong language. “A stupid little girl who carries a purse…” Will felt his own anger bubble up, watching as Hannibal looked out of the corner of his eyes, clearly upset, but trying not to draw attention to himself. He face was red though, he was clearly embarrassed, and Will wished he would just say something. “Who even dropped you off? I saw you yesterday, that wasn’t your mom. What kind of mom doesn’t drop their kid off at kindergarten? I bet she doesn’t even…”

“Shut up!” Will screamed, and turned to Mason. “Just shut up, Mason. Why do you have to be so mean? He doesn’t want to talk to you! And I don’t care if you don’t like his bag, he can carry a purse if he wants! And there’s nothing wrong with being a girl! And you…you’re just mean!” He screamed, feeling himself getting slightly flustered, feeling every pair of eyes, including Mr. Crawford’s, turn to him.

 

 

 

Hannibal’s eyes widened. He stared hard at the curly-haired boy in the seat next to him, pushing his glasses back up his nose as his indignant expression shuffled them down. He was staring hard at the boy who had been so mean to Hannibal since he walked in, his mouth slightly open as if he hadn’t thought anyone would dare to say something to him.

“Alright, everyone, settle down.” Mr. Crawford said, and Mason turned with a huff to face the front. Hannibal couldn’t take his eyes off of his protector, his desk said Will, and Hannibal smiled, putting a hand over his mouth because he couldn’t help but show his teeth. It was an odd feeling, it had been so long since he had smiled that way. He watched Will, who was clearly still fuming from his outburst, but shuffling and trying to listen to Mr. Crawford who was talking about how their classroom worked and who the principal was, and what time they went to lunch. Hannibal half-listened, making careful notes in his book that he was sure Bedelia or Chiyoh would want to see later. But he found Will ultimately more interesting.

Until Will noticed he was looking at him with a sideways glance, and shuffled down in his seat, propping up muddy sneakers on Beverly’s under-desk. Hannibal looked away guiltily. He didn’t want to upset Will, not after he had just defended him; and he sighed, wondering why everything had to be so difficult.

Bedelia had been difficult this morning. She did this every time he went to school, refusing to talk to him over their matching pastries. She had tugged on his clothes hard, straightened them, then re-straightened them, fussed over his hair. But she hadn’t smiled. He had seen a girl’s mother drying when he dropped her off, the little girl who now sat at the front of the class and who smiled at him when he came in. Alana, that’s what her desk said. Bedelia hadn’t brought him to school, she had left for work and Chiyoh had brought him instead. He liked Chiyoh, but she didn’t cry when she left him there. He really couldn’t picture Bedelia doing it either.

“Okay, class!” Mr. Crawford said, moving to the front. “We’re going to go around the room and say our names and a fun fact about ourselves.” Hannibal’s heart dropped, he could feel the sweat start to bead in his palms. “Does anyone want to start?”

The girl in front of Will, Beverly, shot her hand up. “Okay.” Mr. Crawford said, “Stand up, please.”

“Hi!” She said. “My name is Beverly Katz. Someday, when I grow up, I’m gonna be a CSI!” A couple of people, mostly Brian, oohed at the news, everyone nodding seriously. Hannibal’s lips twisted uncertainly. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to be when he grew up. How long would that take? Bedelia told him he had an old soul, so maybe he was already grown up and was just shorter than the other grown ups he had seen.

Mason’s hand went up, and Mr. Crawford pointed at him. Hannibal was happy to see he wasn’t really smiling. “My name’s Mason Verger. My Papa has a whole bunch of money from our pig farm, and someday I’m going to own all of it.” Hannibal thought that explained the ugly shirt he was wearing, which looked like a picture of a pig crossed with a goat or some other animal. He sneered over at Hannibal when he mentioned money and Hannibal fumed to himself: Bedelia had plenty of money, and his father sent him money every month to save for college and a car someday. Mason Verger could eat dirt like his pigs.

And so they went around the room. Bryan Zeller had once eaten a lizard, and Jimmy Price knew every word of four different episodes of Sesame Street, and Alana Bloom’s parents owned a restaurant, and Margot Verger liked horses, and a boy named Francis liked to pretend he was a dragon, and a girl named Reba was blind (which Hannibal wasn’t sure if that was much of a fun fact, but he wasn’t about to call her out on it) and so everyone went around the room until it was only Hannibal and Will that were left. Will looked over at him, fear plain on his face, so instead, Hannibal stood. Will had protected him, he could do the same.

He swallowed, looking out at everyone who was staring up at him expectantly. “Hi.” He said softly, so much that even Beverly made a face like she couldn’t hear him. It was strange, to hear his voice at all after being silent for so long. “I’m Hannibal Lecter.” He said, and at a rude snicker from Mason, he promptly forgot his fun fact. “I…..” He looked around, desperate, feeling tears threaten at his eyes. He couldn’t cry, not on his first day. He saw his journal, with the little cartoon chef that Bedelia had gotten him for Christmas. “I like to cook.”

A couple of peopled oohed, Alana smiled at him, and Brian at least looked impressed. He sat down, hoping that would be the last time he would be forced to talk. “Kindergarteners don’t cook, that’s stupid.” He heard Mason say, and another little boy, who he hadn’t paid attention to, laugh quietly. Now it was Will’s turn. The little boy, his knight like the ones in stories that always protected people, climbed to his feet.

“My name’s Will Graham like the cracker.” He said, keeping his eyes down, pushing up his glasses. “I like dogs. I have a doggy named Winston at home, but my daddy said I couldn’t bring him to school even though Winston has never bitten anyone. He knows its rude.”

Hannibal doesn’t know quite what the feeling in his chest is at those words, but he can practically feel himself beaming at Will as his face reddened and he sank back down into his desk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the hots and kudos and comments, y'all! I'm so happy with the response to this story and am having so much fun writing it! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

Hannibal much preferred his second day of kindergarten to his first: they actually got to work on things instead of just learning all the rules and each other’s names. That, and Mason Verger kept any mean comments about Hannibal to himself whenever Will was at his desk between them, though Hannibal suspected they were still being whispered to his twin sister, who would roll her eyes and talk to Alana instead whenever Mason said something to her. It didn’t seem to bother Mason, and it almost didn’t bother Hannibal, even though it was rude. Mason deserved it.

The morning had been spent looking at their new math textbook, which Hannibal was happy to see only had a few garish-looking pictures interspersed. He already knew all of his numbers, and could count with ease, though even he had to admit that the planned activity of trying to count how many licks it took to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop sounded sort of fun. But also disgusting. He was pretty sure that Tootsie Rolls were one of the “dangerously processed” foods that Bedelia had banned from the house, but Beverly had said they were delicious anyway and she seemed trustworthy thus far. He supposed he didn’t have to tell Bedelia unless she asked, which he seriously doubted that she would. 

But math had still been fun, he felt a little gleam of pride after he had helped Brian, who then passed on the information to Jimmy Price that both of them were making their fours backwards by passing him a paper with one written correctly on it. He was happy to have helped them, and was only slightly disappointed when a peek at Will Graham’s paper had shown him making all of his numbers, fours included (though his were open at the top, where Hannibal’s made neat triangles), perfectly well on their pre-test so he had no excuse to help him. Mr. Crawford hadn’t explained why they were taking a pre-test, but he said he would tell them after library time.

Which is where they were now, where an older woman with a high-pitched voice was putting them into their library groups for the year. Hannibal’s heart leapt a little when he and Will were paired in the same group, and he was excited too about Alana and Beverly. Then it sank a bit after they were joined by a boy named Tobias and another boy named Franklyn who had decided that Hannibal was going to be his friend. Whether Hannibal wanted to or not.

It wasn’t that Hannibal didn’t like him, he seemed nice enough. He had even offered to share half of his cosmic brownie with Hannibal at lunch the day before when Hannibal hadn’t had a dessert in his bag. But Franklyn was very loud and very talkative and, despite the fact that Hannibal thought he was being obvious by recoiling away, Franklyn insisted on touching him, even pulling into a hug at the end of the day. Hannibal blushed thinking about it now, his face turning red at the memory of the fear that had coursed through him, at the flashes of a time in his life he didn’t want to think about. Back before Bedelia became Bedelia instead of mommy, and when he could still speak and recognize his own voice, and when his father was still at the house and when Mischa was still there to have tea parties and eat cookies and give him a hug before they hurt like Franklyn’s.

To Hannibal’s relief, Will and Alana sat on either side of him, earning a small glare from Franklyn at their audacity to take his intended seat. Hannibal covered his mouth to hide his smile when Will gave a grumpy sigh as Mason Verger began to harass Jimmy Price behind them for liking Elmo. Hannibal had never seen the appeal of Elmo, but he could respect Jimmy’s care for the small puppet. His love for Elmo far exceeded most things Hannibal had witnessed, and if his nearly entire Elmo attire didn’t speak to it, his Elmo lunchbox and backpack certainly did. Luckily, Brian also liked Elmo and the two of them, with their near constant talking, practically drowned Mason out.

“Margot says he’s like that at home, too. I don’t know how I’d deal with it if my brothers was that mean.” Hannibal resisted the urge to correct her grammar, as Bedelia had always taught him speaking properly was the most polite, but Alana was being nice to him, he didn’t want to see rude in turn. So intead, he gave his smile, knowing his lips must look strange, curling in a way to disguise his teeth, but she didn’t seem to mind. “You don’t have to talk. My brother’s too little to talk and he’s still my friend.” She reassured him with a pat on the arm. He couldn’t help but smile a little bigger, and she didn’t even seem afraid.

“Do any of you know how to read?” The other boy, Tobias, asked. Hannibal nodded, along with Will and Alana, and Beverly, who held her hand up in a “sort of” kind of motion. Franklyn’s face fell, and he squirmed uncomfortably for minute. Only a minute.

“Do you know how to read, Tobias? Wow, that’s so cool. And all of you do, too? Can you read even though you can’t talk, Hannibal? That’s really impressive! My grandma likes to read. But her books don’t have pictures! I wonder what we’re reading in here! Maybe it will be something good! What’s your favorite book, Tobias? I like books about frogs and planes and spaceships and cars and turtles…”

“Franklyn.” It was Alana who stopped him, as Beverly, Hannibal, Will, and Tobias all stared with wide eyes, and Hannibal was slightly afraid Tobias was going to hit Franklyn. “That’s very nice, but why don’t we listen to Mrs. Komeda?” The older librarian was smiling at their table, and nodded at Alana, who smiled back.

“Okay, everyone, we’ll be getting our library cards today so that you can check out books just like your older peers!” Hannibal wanted to say that to call them peers, if they were older, was incorrect. But as per usual, he stayed quiet. “We have a special section of books for our kindergarten classes right over here, if you all will stand up and follow me.”

Hannibal stood, pushing in his chair, as well as Will’s, who have him a shy smile of thanks but wouldn’t meet his eyes as they turned to follow Mrs. Komeda into what made Hannibal’s heart sink just a little more than Franklyn had. The chairs looked soft and comfy, but the book selection was very limited. Books with dancing animals on the covers, or books with smiling babies or “Rookie Reader” or that damn Frog and Toad. He wasn’t a rookie reader, and one look at Will’s face told him that he wasn’t either since he was nearly grimacing at the shelf.

The other children all seemed excited, climbing over the bean bags and chairs and shelves to reach for books. Beverly grabbed one where a squirrel was in a white coat, thinking it was a CSI, but it turns out it was a doctor. “Here.” She said to Hannibal, you can have this one. He looked down, trying to smile a little because it was nice of her to offer, and the pictures, though very childish, were very pretty and the paper was smooth because the book was new. He sat on a cushion as Will kept looking and looking and looking, finally finding a book with some fish that had formed a mariachi band.

Mrs. Komeda watched them all with a happy, placated smile as most of them just pointed out particularly cool bits of pictures or sight words they could recognize. Hannibal could feel her gaze linger however, first on him in his island of bean bag that he hoped wouldn’t leave threads on his dress pants. Bedelia would not appreciate that, he knew, and she was already having a bad week: he didn’t want to upset her further. And then again on Alana, who was showing the boy who had laughed with Mason at his mean comments about Hannibal cooking. His name was Frederick, and Hannibal couldn’t decide what his problem was. He couldn’t tell if Frederick wanted to be around him or not, with his trying to impress him and then being so rude, so Hannibal had decided to avoid him. Something that Will Graham seemed to be doing also, since Mrs. Komeda then looked at him, sitting as far from the group as possible at the edge of the rug decorated with geometric shapes.

Hannibal read through his book quickly as the library assistant printed their library cards and handed them out carefully. Inscribed on each was their full name, their picture, and their lunch number. Hannibal looked at his quizzically: if he lost his, someone could steal his entire identity! He put it carefully in his breast pocket for safe keeping, just in case someone like Mason Verger got any ideas.

“Alright, everyone, that’s enough for today! These are the books you all can check out this year as kindergartners!” Hannibal watched with a little smirk as Will sighed mournfully, looking at the shelves of much larger books and pushed his glasses further back into his curly hair as he put his book back on the shelf to follow the line back out.

After a quiet lunch by himself at the end of the table, the rest of Hannibal’s day was vaguely uneventful. He had one more conversation with Alana Bloom during social studies, when Mr. Crawford paired them up for a game of pin-the-state on the map (both of them had known right where Maryland was), and continued his close observation of Will Graham.

As they were getting in line to leave for pick up and buses, Mr. Crawford called him, Alana, Tobias, Margot, and Frederick up to his desk. Hannibal swallowed: he tried to think what he could have done wrong. In trouble on his second day? He couldn’t remember ever being in trouble. Bedelia was going to be so upset! He pushed back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, letting himself appear calm next to Will, who was almost twitching with nerves.

“Okay, everyone, I need you to take these envelopes back to your parents and guardians tonight. Have them sign them and return them tomorrow, please. Can you do that for me?” All of them nodded. “It’s nothing bad, it’s just about math class. You all get some special opportunities.”

Alana and Margot looked excited, Tobias and Frederick both had an all-knowing smirk. Hannibal was uncertain, usually when grown-us called something a special opportunity, it was just so they could convince you to do more chores, or as was sometimes Bedelia’s case, to give her more privacy with the not-very-nice-men she sometimes had at the house. Those were days Hannibal got to go into the library by himself, and even though they were some of his favorite days, he saw through the façade she was putting up. He took the envelope anyway, wanting, for a moment, to ask for another one to send to his father. But he wasn’t quite sure how to address an envelope and he didn’t think Bedelia would let him have one of her stamps anyway, so instead he shuffled back into line where Chiyoh was waiting to pick him up in the black Bentley in the middle of the parking lot.

 

 

“What’s this, bud?” Will frowned as his daddy put out a cigarette in the ashtray by the car. He gave Will a wink and an apologetic grin since he had promised to stop smoking since Will started pre-school.

“Mr. Crawford needs you to sign it so I can learn math.” He said, pushing his backpack up onto one of the garage shelves and grabbing the wrench he always used to help his daddy tighten bolts to give the cars that “nice new look” at the end of every project. He set to work on a few, smiling that his daddy had left them loose enough for him to tighten: sometimes he forgot.

“Didn’t know you needed permission for that.” His daddy said, pulling out what looked like a very official piece of paper, with graphs and everything. Will waited, tightening the little bolts and wiping away his fingerprints with a paper towel until the rims gleamed back at him and he could see his curls reflected on the surface. He wondered if his mommy had curly hair; his daddy’s hair was straight as a rail unless he combed it over or wore a hat to make it flat on his head. But his daddy’s eyes were the same color of blue that he could see looking back at him now, and he smiled. He almost wanted to ask, but it would just make his daddy sad, and knowing about curly hair just wasn’t worth it.

“This is great, Will!” His daddy’s voice startled him, and he turned just in time for the man to sweep him up. “Your teacher says you’re gonna be in the accelerated math group. Does that sound like something you want to do?”

Will wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but thought back on who he else had gotten an envelope: Frederick who seemed like he could be nice if he tried, Margot who really liked horses and really didn’t like her brother, Tobias who was the only one who knew all of the rules of hopscotch (even the complicate ones about what to do when you tied), Alana who had been really nice both days of kindergarten, and then there was Hannibal. Hannibal who hadn’t said anything since his fun fact.

“Can kindergartners cook?” He asked seriously, the math issue forgotten, and his daddy gave him a weird look, his chest shaking with a held-back laugh.

“Not you.” He said, and Will frowned. “That’s not your fault, though; I can’t cook either, so you don’t have anyone to teach you.” He rumpled Will’s hair, pulling the cap off a pen with his teeth as he signed the form and put it back in the envelope and back in the backpack. “I suppose some of them can.”

“You make good sandwiches.” His daddy laughed and Will smiled at the sound. It was true.  Every day for lunch, he ate the sandwich his daddy had made him, and a baggie with some Pringles and carrots. Lunch at school was expensive so he didn’t eat it unless they were out of turkey, and he had decided that he liked his daddy’s sandwiches better anyway.

“That’s not exactly cooking, bud. But I’ll take it.” He said, filling out the sheet on the car order he had just finished. “Why don’t we get something to eat?” He added, stepping towards the house where Will expected their usual dinner of scrambled eggs and salmon cakes. “Why are you asking about cooking, anyway? I didn’t learn that kind of stuff in kindergarten.”

“No daddy,” He explained, using his hands to climb up the stairs into the house, ignoring his father’s offered hand. “I didn’t learn it. A boy in my class said he knew how and another boy said that was stupid, but I didn’t think he was lying. He seems kind of nice, actually.” By that point, his daddy was rummaging through their fridge in search of butter, and Will knew he no longer had his full attention. He didn’t mind though, climbing into his chair, kicking his feet since he had been holding in the urge all day.

 

 

“How was school, Hannibal?” Bedelia asked, not actually looking at him because she didn’t expect an answer. He swallowed his bite of braised chicken.

“I have a library card now.” Her eyebrows lifted and her eyes met his with an actual small smile. “Mr. Crawford sent me home with something for you to sign.” The smile disappeared and he pulled the envelope from under the table, standing to walk it down to her. It was rude to look at things at the table, but he didn’t want it to seem as though he had been keeping a secret. That would be even ruder.

Her brows creased together as she examined what seemed like a very formal publication as Hannibal picked apart his lemon-ginger asparagus stalks and chewed them carefully. “Did you take a test today?” He nodded at her.

She produced a pen and signed the papers. “This is very good, Hannibal. You’ll be in advanced mathematics.” Hannibal breathed out the tension in his shoulders. Bedelia passed it back to him, and as he put it carefully into a folder to take with him the next day, he thought for the very first time that kindergarten might actually be shaping up. He might even like it a little, especially if he could convince Mrs. Komeda to let him read books from beyond the reaches of the kindergarten area of the library. The paper fit perfectly into his bag, where his library card gave a guarded smile back at him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the great response thus far! I love reading your comments and seeing how many people are checking this story out! These little ones have stolen my heart :) 
> 
> Thanks again, I hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

Will Graham woke up excited: it was Friday and grown-ups always seemed to be excited about Friday. His daddy said it was just like any other day since he usually worked on boats and cars and even on lawnmowers on Saturdays, too, but Will decided that he was going to embrace the magic of Fridays and end his first almost-week of kindergarten on a good note.

His daddy was awake as always, and had his oatmeal already ready to go. Will ate quickly, leaving time to pull on his favorite flannel which was the same color of green as the leaves on his favorite Spanish oak tree in the yard, and tie his own shoes before they left for school.

“You have your envelope, bud?” His daddy asked, tossing the remnants of a cigarette butt out of the open window before they pulled into the school parking lot. Will knew that no one was allowed to smoke at school (except for, apparently, the lunch ladies), not even daddies.

“Yeah.” He said, patting his bag where the envelope was thick against his reading workbook.

“Alright.” His dad sat for a minute as they didn’t move in the line. “I’m proud of you, Will.” He said finally. “You’re already doing good things, and you’re just in kindergarten.” He reached behind him to the backseat as they crawled through the pick-up line. “Here, get you something special.” Will took the perfectly crisp dollar from between his daddy’s fingers, marveling at it. He could get something special at lunch! A cookie, or a big thing of milk to go with his lunch.

“Thank you!” He said, after he realized he’d been staring.

“No problem.” His daddy smiled and reached over to rumple his hair and wave to the nice traffic lady as Will climbed out of his seat. “You just have to tell me what you learn, okay?”

Will nodded seriously in agreement. Fridays, he decided, as he tucked the dollar into his lunch for safekeeping, were magical indeed.

 

 

Hannibal wasn’t sure if he or Chiyoh was having a worse morning. Her car hadn’t started, and thus the two of them were twenty minutes late for school. Hannibal hated being late for anything, so he hadn’t been able to help the few tears that had come out of his eyes, even though Bedelia had not been happy about it. Things had gone much smoother after she had left for work.

But then, since Hannibal had been upset, he had forgotten his lunch at home. His little lunch box with his cold cucumber soup and club crackers and even one of the little tarts he had made (with Chiyoh’s supervision, of course) the night before. All forgotten, along with the bottle of water he usually would drink. He could have told Chiyoh, who was clearly fuming in the silence of the car, but he didn’t want to make her day any worse by turning them around again and he didn’t want Mr. Crawford more upset than he already would be for Hannibal missing so much of math class and, above all, when he did try to speak, the words just caught in his throat and stayed there. Eventually, he gave up.

“Goodbye, Hannibal.” Chiyoh’s tone was soft, and Hannibal managed to give her a little smile as he went inside, having to reach above his head to open the door, and slide his tardy excuse over a counter to a lady he couldn’t see behind the desk. She tsk-ed at him, and he frowned, wishing he could explain to her that he would never, ever be late on purpose. But she didn’t seem like she wanted to hear it. Instead, he whispered a silent thank you to her and shuffled down the hall to class.

It was strange, being in the hall when everyone else was in class. He could hear things, smell everything, behind closed doors, but it was as though he was very removed from it all. It was an uncomfortably familiar feeling, so he kept his head down and walked faster. Finally, he made it to the kindergarten wing, only to realize that there was no way he was getting inside the door.

The handle was huge! He held up his palm, which would barely cover the key hole in the center, and frowned to himself. How was he supposed to get inside now, when he had come all this way? It wasn’t as if he could yell for help. He pressed his forehead to the door, wondering if any kindergartner in the history of kindergarteners had ever had a worse start to the day. He raised his fist and began knociking as loud as he could, though he could hear the loudness on the other side of the door.

He knocked again and again and again, but there was no one coming to his rescue. He was a final knock away from slumping to the ground when he heard a familiar voice yelling. “Mr. Jack!” It was Beverly. “There’s somebody at the door!”

“Thank you, Beverly. I wonder who that could be? We aren’t expecting anyone.” Hannibal felt his face grow hot as the room grew quiet behind the door. They had already forgotten him! He frowned, not wanting to start crying again.

“Hello, Hannibal!” Mr. Crawford said, and smiled down at him. “Welcome back!” Most of the kids turned around when  they saw it was only Hannibal, but Beverly and Brian and Alana and even Jimmy Price waved at him. Franklyn seemed particularly excited, inquiring at to his whereabouts.

“Did you bring your envelope back, Hannibal?” Hannibal nodded, passing him his tardy note first and then the envelope where he could see Bedelia’s handwriting had bled through the page.

“Okay, why don’t you go join your group? It seems Will is getting you a chair right now.” Hannibal looked up to see Will pushing his desk over into their math group, where he gave Hannibal a shy smile under his glasses. “I’ll get you what you’re working on.”

He gave a small smile as he sat next to Will, who huffed from the effort of pushing the desk, but didn’t complain.

He smiled back, meeting Hannibal’s eyes for all of a second before he started working again on his page of math problems.

 

When lunchtime came, Will Graham wasn’t quite sure what to do. He had spent the last few days eating with Beverly at one of the smaller round tables they were at, and so, as per usual, that’s where he headed. It was then he noticed, for the first time, Hannibal sitting at the end of the table by himself. Only today, instead of seeming generally content, and maybe even happy with his fancy lunchbox, Hannibal was sitting, staring at his hands folded together on the table. “Beverly.” He said, and she turned from where she and Brian had been having a riveting discussion on whether they would both be able to go to the movies this weekend, or if, as Beverly claimed, she had to wait for her baby brother to be old enough first, and looked at him. “Can I ask Hannibal if he wants to sit over here?”

“Okay.” She said, and Jimmy, mouth full of cafeteria pizza, nodded his head in agreement, and Brian just shrugged which Will took as a definite yes since it wasn’t a no.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, and climbed down from the hard plastic seats. He waited until Hannibal’s eyes shifted to him, the boy shrinking back a little from nervousness. Will was nervous too, but he swallowed and steeled himself with a deep breath.

“Where’s your lunch?” He asked, and Hannibal looked down at the table. Will frowned, and then tried another tactic. “Did you forget it? I used to forget mine all the time.” Hannibal looked up at him briefly and gave him a nod. “And you don’t have no money?” Hannibal shook his head. Will thought for a moment. His sandwich was already gone, so he couldn’t offer to share. His Pringles and carrots were mostly gone, too, and wouldn’t be much help. Then it came to him, his dollar, burning against his chest as if on fire.

“Here,” He said, and pulled it out to put it on the table between them. “You can get something with this. Maybe not a full sandwich, but something.” Hannibal stared at it for a long moment, and then at him, his eyes wide with surprise. Will could feel his gratitude, genuine, and he couldn’t help but smile. “But then you gotta come eat with us, okay? Over there.” He pointed to where Brian had two of his leftover carrots in his mouth, pretending to be a walrus to amuse Jimmy. Will was worried for a minute, but smiled when he saw Hannibal was, too.

“Thank you.” Hannibal said, and then, as if he was concentrating very hard. “Will.”

“You’re welcome,” Will said, and turned to leave, watching as Hannibal got some fruit and a water cup, the boy seeming happy for the first time since Will had seen him. Only for a moment did his thoughts got to the cookies or snacks that might have been; this was far more important.

 

 

“We need a cool team name.” Will looked up from the rest of his Pringles at Beverly, who seemed determined.

“How come?” Brian said.

“Because we’re a cool team.” She rolled her eyes. “And we have a mission to complete.”

“A mission?” Jimmy whispered, as if that were a bad word. They all leaned in towards Beverly, even Hannibal, who continued to eat his apple slices.

“You know the library?” They all nodded. “Well. When we was in there yesterday, I saw the biggest book that’s ever been written in there!” All their eyes, even Hannibal’s, went wide. Will tried to remember. “Its up there on the front, and according to Mrs. Komeda, it has every word ever in there!”

“That’s a lot of words.” Jimmy said, and Hannibal nodded at him in agreement.

“I know.” Beverly answered solemenly. “Think of how smart we would be if we knew all the words in the whole world?” All of them paused to think. He thought about his daddy, who was the smartest person Will knew. He probably knew a lot of the words in there. And his daddy always said that smart people did good stuff in life. Will wanted to do good stuff.

“We’d be the smartest people in the whole of kindergarten! Maybe even the world!” She said. “Then we wouldn’t have to put up with Mason Verger being so mean or Frederick and Franklyn being so dumb,” she added under her breath. Will glanced at Hannibal, who looked relieved at the idea. “We need that book.”

“We can’t check it out, it isn’t in the kindergarten section, Beverly!” Brian said, so loud that he was promptly shushed by everyone but Hannibal. “That’s crazy talk!”

“We’re going to have to steal it.” Beverly said, staring at them as if daring them to argue. “Before Christmas, so we have time to give it back before Santa figures it out.” Hannibal looked confused at that, but Will thought that he was just being silly. Of course he would know how Santa worked, what kid didn’t understand Santa?

“Do you have a plan?” She shook her head, and they all let out a collective breath. “But I’ll make one.” Will nodded. “But first, we need a cool team name. Let’s be ready on Monday!”

And they all put their hands in, Hannibal hesitating for only a second at the chocolate pudding on Jimmy’s fingers, before he did it, too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love y'all! thanks for keeping up with the story, your all's reviews never fail to make my day :) I hope you enjoy this chapter with the lil cuties! As always, please R and R, let me know what you think!

Hannibal did not understand brunch. He didn’t like the idea of it much, though Bedelia insisted that it was the best way to start the weekend. He thought that was sort of mixed up, since most people ate brunch because they woke up late on the weekend, but both he and Bedelia were always up by 7:30 anyway, and Chiyoh rolled in at 8, as per usual. But they wouldn’t eat brunch until nearly 10, by which time his stomach was always rumbling, but it would be rude to eat so soon before brunch, so he ignored the bowl of pomegranates and the fridge full of cheese snacks, and instead, would wait on Chiyoh to start making French toast. Brunch, even though Hannibal loved Chiyoh’s French toast, would have been better served as breakfast and then lunch.

This morning, Bedelia was oddly talkative. But not to him, or to Chiyoh who had let him mix together the eggs and cinnamon and sugar together before they put it on the toast. He had done better than any other kindergartener he knew, if he did say so himself, but Bedelia was yet to notice as she had spent most of the meal on the phone and her toast, garnished with her favorite raspberries and white Caro syrup, remained untouched.

“Well, does he know anyone else who can do it? It needs done today, I am having patients all this week over at the house!” She was angry, but Bedelia rarely raised her voice and now was no exception. He could tell by her face, the same face she made when she would ask him questions that he woudln’s answer with anything more than a nod or shake of his head. The same face she would make when his father would call and ask what days would work to come by. Thus far, she had kept making that face, and no days had worked in her schedule. Hannibal wondered if his father really didn’t know she was lying about that, or if he just accepted it because it was easier than dealing with it. Maybe if it mattered more to him, he would have realized it, but Hannibal didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

“It’s already up to my knees. Hannibal can’t even play outside right now!” Hannibal frowned. He was being lied about, right in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had voluntarily played in the front yard: the trees out back, yes; the small stream that ran behind their home, yes, but never the plain front yard where their neighbors would stare at him and other kids in the neighborhood would make fun of him when he wouldn’t talk. He remembered playing in the yard with Mischa, where she would reach down and touch the flowers that grew up past her knees and laugh at how soft they were. But not since then. He was fine with Bedelia wanting the yard mowed, he was not fine with her using him to get it done.

“Okay, thank you.” She said finally, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she set the phone down. She stabbed the French toast with far more force than was necessary, splattering the insides of a raspberry all over her plate. Hannibal chewed the rest of his bite, taking a deep breath.

“Will’s father mows lawns.” He had seen their car in the parking lot when Chiyoh had come to pick him up. There was a name and number painted on the car like the one belonging to the lady who sold Bedelia her cosmetics in a bright pink car. He had memorized it, committed it to himself, and even had, since he had snuck and stayed up late the night before, drawn the little clipart lawnmower and boat in his little journal. Not his usual ventures into drawing, where most of his pictures were of people: Bedelia, his father, Chiyoh, Mischa, but he liked them and how they weren’t so complicated and how drawing them didn’t get the sides of his hands covered in pencil like they were every day after school from writing in his notebook all day.

“Who is Will?” He was surprised Bedelia had listened, but she was now looking at him intently. He thought for a minute that he had overplayed himself, he had spoken a few times in only a few days. Bedelia was starting to get either suspicious or hopeful, he couldn’t figure out which was worse.

“A boy from my class.” Hannibal answered, and Bedelia raised her eyebrows, he guessed she was probably amazed he had actually interacted with anyone from his class to begin with.

“Well,” She seemed to be contemplating, and watched as Chiyoh stood to begin washing her and Hannibal’s dishes. “Do you know Will’s number?” He nodded, and choose not to feel bad at her sigh of disappointment that he had stopped speaking, and went instead to get a piece of paper. He wrote carefully, making sure to put all the numbers in the right order before sliding it to Bedelia, who said nothing and looked at him. “Do you know his name?”

Hannibal shook his head again, using his hands to climb back into his seat and sit across from her, waiting on the phone call, even kicking his feet a little bit in excitement. Maybe Will would answer the phone!

“Hello, is this Will’s father?” Hannibal heard a voice from the other end, deep and rich, slightly amused. “My son Hannibal gave me this number, he is in class with your son.”

Hannibal heard another sentence that sounded like, “What can I do for you?” and he smiled. This man sounded friendly: like Will. “He told me you do lawn care. I was wondering if you were available to work today, the man who usually does my lawn is unfortunately available.”

He heard a response, and waited, on the edge of his seat. “That’s fine of course, I understand it is short notice.” Hannibal’s heart sank a little in his chest, and he frowned over at Bedelia. Will’s father wouldn’t be coming then, and Bedelia would remain grumpy all week. “Will is more than welcome to come with you, he and Hannibal can play together, I’m sure.”

His eyes widened, his mouth went dry. Will Graham? Coming here? “We can talk about payment once you see the size of the yard.”

The conversation faded into discussions of directions and phone numbers and a promise that they would be here in about a half an hour. “I suspect you heard all of that.” Hannibal nodded, even though that might have been a little bit of a lie (he hadn’t heard everything Will’s father had said), “Go and find something for you and Will to do then. Away from the front yard, it’s not safe.”

He leapt down from his chair, running to go get ready, smiling full-teeth as he ran.

 

 

Will Graham held the box of bug spray and gloves and bottled water in his lap, pushing his glasses back on his head so he could peer over the dashboard of the truck. His daddy had borrowed the truck and trailer from a friend at work, and even though Will liked the truck, with its big tires and shiny black paint, it was hard to climb into, even if he had grown a full inch in the last year according to the pencil lines his daddy made on the door once a month.

But had made it eventually, pulling himself up using the cupholders that made his hands smell like his daddy’s coffee, and now he liked how the truck rumbled even when the road was smooth. “Sorry you have to come with me, bud, but we could use the cash and the center can’t take you on such short notice.”

“It’s okay.” Will assured him. And it was. He could think of worse ways to spend the day than with his daddy mowing the lawn at Hannibal’s house. He wasn’t sure still, whether Hannibal liked him or not. He was nice, and he smiled sometimes at him when he thought Will wasn’t looking, and he was good at math and at reading and he had agreed to help steal the book at the front of the library, which Will, after speaking about it with his daddy, had discovered it was called a dictionary. His daddy didn’t know of the plan of course, to take it, and Will tried to ignore the twinge of guilt in his stomach for just using him for information. And besides all that, Hannibal wasn’t as loud as Brian and Jimmy, or as focused as Beverly. He was almost calming, and maybe, just maybe, he could be Will’s friend.

“Is Hannibal your friend?” His daddy asked, and Will watched him feel in his shirt pocket for a cigarette before patting it and deciding against it. Will smiled, he was proud of his daddy for trying so hard to quit. And he was proud to be able to help him, even if it was just carrying the box of extra supplies.

“No. Yes. I don’t really know.” Will finally decided that was the best answer. And it was true. He didn’t know and his daddy didn’t push it. So instead he watched, resisting the urge to reach out and play with the actual rolling handle for the car window, as the homes they passed changed from his neighborhood where the older people sat out on their porches with tea and grandchildren, too big shiny houses where Will wasn’t sure that people lived at all. Maybe queens and knights in castles, with horses and gold and fancy things inside. He could imagine Hannibal, in his little suits that he wore, right at home in a place like this. Maybe even happy.

“Here we go.” His daddy said, and pulled the truck into a long driveway with two, shiny black cars in front of a huge house. Will couldn’t see out the window enough to tell, but he wasn’t surprised if the grass was so tall. This yard was huge! Even bigger than the playground!

A blonde woman was standing out front, in what Will recognized as a very nice jacket and skirt. He stayed behind his daddy, not seeing Hannibal and not comfortable quite yet around this lady, even though he was sure he had seen her before. “Kit Graham.” She took his daddy’s hand with an almost not-there smile, Will frowned, maybe she was mad about something.

“Bedelia du Maurier. Thank you for coming on short notice, I just need the front done.” He watched his daddy look out, scoping out the area.

“Sure, thing. I’ve got enough gas to get it all in one go, I think.” He said, ruffling Will’s hair almost unconciously as he thought. Will liked when his daddy mowed yards like this, sometimes, when people were paying him after they were done, Will (and even sometimes Winston) could run through the big piles of cut-up grass that were left behind in perfect rows. It was fluffy, and even though it always made Winston sneeze, Will liked that he always smelled like grass afterwards when they would go home for an inevitable nap.

He didn’t listen as much when Hannibal’s mommy started talking about how much to pay his daddy, and Will could tell it was a lot since his daddy gave a slight whistle and said yes right away. But Will’s attention was elsewhere, watching instead at Hannibal who was standing at the window. He didn’t catch Will’s eyes, but he seemed to be holding something, focused on it intently. Paper, maybe, or a book.

“That sounds excellent.” Hannibal’s mommy said. “Will, why don’t you come inside with me? Hannibal is in the living room.” Will handed the box to his daddy, who slipped on a pair of gloves out of it and set it on the hood.

“Have fun, bud.” He said, and smiled down at him before going to unhook the lawnmower.

“If you have any questions about the house, feel free to ask Hannibal or Chiyoh. You’re probably realized that you will get a better response from Chiyoh.” Will frowned. He wasn’t sure that Hannibal’s mommy was very nice. It was hard to tell though, since her voice wasn’t changing. “Otherwise, I hope you have a good time.”

She opened the door to a living room (though Will noted the distinct lack of a television) that was as bright as the outside was, marked by a large, curved window that he had seen Hannibal through. Hannibal was still, seeming to watch intently as Will’s daddy rolled the bright orange mower in even paths, spraying grass everywhere.

“Hi.” Said Will, feeling guilty at Hannibal’s startled jump. He didn’t mean to scare him…maybe Hannibal was just easily scared. Like Will after he snuck and watched the first half hour of _It_ after his daddy had told him not to. That had not been fun to explain, or to think about for several days. He still didn’t like clowns, but thankfully, he hadn’t seen any in Hannibal’s house thus far. Maybe he was scared of them, too.

Hannibal said nothing, but Will’s guilt went away when he could feel the happiness coming from him. They stayed silent for a second before Will swallowed and let his eyes wonder done to Hannibal’s hands, where his fingers, longer than Will’s but also softer, were gripped around a notebook tightly. Judging by how the day had gone so far, Will didn’t think that Hannibal spent as much time helping mow lawns as he did and probably didn’t have any reason for the calluses that were on Will’s fingers.  

“Do you draw?” Hannibal’s face reddened, and Will frowned. But then he nodded, opening the book.

Will thought of his own drawings, most starring himself, his daddy, and Winston in various forms. He knew they were people, and he could imagine the thin lines that made up the legs and the circles that made up the heads, hands, and feet of his characters with little distinction between the two. Hannibal’s were very different.

“Wow.” He whispered, trying not to act too surprised in case it hurt Hannibal’s feeling. “Is that a picture of your mommy?” 

“Bedelia.” Hannibal said resolutely.  

“What’s a Bedelia?” Will asked, and couldn’t help but smile at Hannibal’s serious expression and the shrug that followed. “You don’t call her mommy?”

“No.” Hannibal’s voice was soft; Will liked it. He was used to his daddy’s voice, which was nice, but sometimes very deep and loud. Or Brian’s voice which was like a constant buzzing. Or Jimmy’s, which was really high-pitched. Or Mason’s, which always seemed to be meanly directed at him. Hannibal’s was quieter, softer. Like powedery sugar instead of the grains that his daddy always put in his coffee and spilled all over the floor for Winston to pick up.

“Oh.” Said Will, and they stood for another moment in silence, Hannibal looking straight down at the picture he had drawn. “You’re really good.” Said Will, pushing his glassed back up his nose as they started to slide off when he looked down. “You draw like a grown-up and everything!”

Hannibal beamed, and Will smiled, tucking his lips together. “Do you have other paper we can draw on? It shouldn’t take my daddy too long, he’s the fastest lawnmower in the world!”

“Wow.” Hannibal’s eyes were wide, and Will scrunched his nose, trying to figure out if he was making fun of him. But he seemed genuinely impressed, before he stepped away to find more paper. When he came back, he handed it to Will, along with what he thought was a pack of colored pencils. Only they were much prettier and made of metal.

“What are these?” Hannibal cocked his head at him, gesturing to the thin lines that made up the drawing of his mommy. Will nodded, accepting that would be nice. But what to draw? Maybe he should draw his mommy. Or at least, what he thought she might look like.

He started it, with his usual basic box-shaped bodies and circles for feet. He stuck hi tongue out just a little, letting his get that perfect edge to the circle for her head. He noticed then that Hannibal was watching him work, sitting with his legs crossed while Will laid on his tummy on the ground.

Will blushed a little, wishing he could draw like Hannibal, whose pictures looked like something you could see in a book. “What are you drawing?”

“My mommy.” Will said seriously, giving her long hair, but making sure it was curly. He liked the pen then, it made it easy to give the little curls.

“Is her name Bedelia, too?” Will thought hard, wondering if his daddy had ever mentioned it.

“I don’t think so. Maybe all the mommies have different names.” Will said, and added her eyes and mouth while Hannibal continued watching. “My daddy never told me.”

Hannibal didn’t say anything, but Will could practically feel the questions. He squirmed a little, not wanting to answer them. “What about your daddy?”

“My father doesn’t live here.” Hannibal said softly, turning the pages in his sketchbook to a man who looked very much like him. Only Will thought he dressed a little more like his own daddy in a polo than he dressed like Hannibal in a suit. Maybe, instead of getting curly hair from Bedelia like Will had gotten from his mommy, he had gotten her taste in clothes.

“That’s okay.” Will reassured him. “My mommy doesn’t live with us. We’re fine with it, that’s why we have Winston, I think.”

And the conversation, mainly Will discussing the various odds and ends and great adventures of Winston Graham while Hannibal listened patiently, seemed to continue for a very long time. Hannibal drew, though Will couldn’t see it very well from his position on the floor, and will continued to outline his family in fancy pen until the same woman who had escorted Hannibal on his first day came in.

“Your father is ready, Mr. Graham.” Will giggled, looked over at Hannibal who smiled. No one ever called him Mr. Graham. Not even everyone called his daddy Mr. Graham. In fact, most people called him Kit, which Will assumed was like the whole Bedelia debacle with Hannibal. Grown-ups were strange.

Hannibal stood, reaching out a hand to pull Will to his feet, moving to walk through the door that Chiyoh held open for them. Will followed, holding his picture in his fists, hoping his daddy would like it.

He and Bedelia were both waiting outside on the stoop, his daddy covered in grass stains, and Bedelia writing a check. He looked out at the yard, covered in soft grass. “Hey,” He said to Hannibal, tugging on his sleeve, “Come with me.” The boy stared, wide-eyed at him for a long moment before nodding and setting his book down.

Wuick as a flash, before any of the adults present could stop them, Will had led Hannibal Lecter into the yard, throwing up great tufts of grass clippings, disrupting the perfectly manicured rows. He looked back to see Hannibal staring at him as if he were crazy , so he smiled at him, laughing at the look on his daddy’s face. He watched Hannibal take a deep breath before he reached down, picking up a huge mountain of grass, throwing it up before running into it, most of it catching in his light hair on the way down. Will kept going, until he was running and yelling and could hear his father shouting for him to come back. Hannibal was having an equally good time, and Will thought that he might even be a better grass partner than Winston. He was certainly quieter, and had a lot more stamina.

“Hannibal!” It was ultimately Chiyoh that put a stop to their fun, reaching Hannibal in less than a minute, beginning to brush the remnants of the yard from him. Will frowned, hoping he hadn’t gotten his new friend in trouble, but Chiyoh didn’t seem angry. In fact, she seemed a little excited.

“Sorry, daddy.” Will trudged behind them to where his father had finished loading up the mower and had Will’s special box ready to go.

“It’s alright, bud, the yard doesn’t mind.” He took off his sunglasses and tipped his hat to Bedelia. “Thank you ma’am, I hope we see you again.”

Will started to climb into the truck, already sighing at the smell of coffee that he knew would be on his hands, but a tap on his shoulder stopped him. He turned around to see Hannibal, grass now only on the bottom of his pant legs. In his hands, he pushed a piece of paper towards Will, his drawing paper.

It was a picture of Will, with his glasses and everything, smiling. Will smiled at it. “Thanks, Hannibal.” He said, and looked up to see Hannibal beaming at him, his eyes even partially closed. He reached out, pulling him into a hug. “I’ll keep it forever,” He promised, before turning away again, climbing back in.

Will watched and watched and watched over the lip of the car dashboard, but even he couldn’t see the two sets of eyes that trailed after their car. One belonging to a very happy little boy who hadn’t realized he wanted a hug, and one from his mother, who wondered what exactly this all might mean.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing to read! I will reply to comments, I'm just behind (I love you all for leaving them, they always make my day!) I hope y'all enjoy, please R and R, let me know what you think :)

“Okay, what have we got?” Beverly said, rolling out her sandwich. “Anybody think of anything good?”

“Shouldn’t we be writing these down?” Jimmy inquired, earning a glare and sigh from Beverly. Will could see that she hadn’t brought a notebook (Will wasn't all that sure she could even write all the way), and even if he had wanted to help her, all of his things besides his lunch were in the room.

“Do you even know how to write, Jimmy?” Beverly rolled her eyes. Jimmy frowned, muttering about how he knew how to write  _some_  things, but ultimately, the answer was no.

“I can write them.” Hannibal’s soft voice came from Will’s other side, where the boy had pulled out a notebook. Brian and Jimmy stared for a minute, surprised Hannibal had talked at all. Beverly gave a half-grin.

“Okay, what have we got?” She repeated.

“Mystery, Inc!” Brian said immediately, and Jimmy oohed.

“We’re not Scooby Doo!” Beverly said, but Hannibal diligently wrote down Mystery, Inc. in handwriting that looked nothing like Will’s own, squarish letters, but more like the signature his daddy put on checks. Like the one Hannibal’s mommy had given him, which was apparently enough for them to get McDonalds for dinner on Saturday night. Will could not remember a better day, the lady had even given him an extra nugget with his happy meal when she saw the puppy on his shirt. Sunday had been just as fun, with him and his daddy working on the cars in the shop, Will learning the names of parts and pieces, and how to fix different things even though his daddy just let him screw in the bolts like always.

“We have to start somewhere.” Brian grumbled.

“Okay,” Beverly conceded. “What else?”

“The Incredibles!”

“The Avengers!”

“The Gilmore Girls!”

“Who are they?” mixed with “Only one of us is a girl!”

“The Star Sqaud.”

Another thirty or so names later, and Will was exhausted from all the shouting. He had given up anyway, eating his carrots quietly while Hannibal worked furiously, though it was clear that there was at least some problem with every one of the names suggested so far, and now Beverly and Brian were in a shouting match over why they couldn’t be the “Los Angeles Lakers” since that name was already taken, but Brian had just seen them on TV.

“Hannibal.” Jimmy’s voice, though quiet, broke through the noise. “Do you have any ideas?” He sounded as tired as Will felt.

Hannibal curled his lips, thinking hard, his fingers stilling over the paper. Beverly and Brian and Jimmy and Will all waited with baited breath. “The A-Team.” He said finally.

“The A-Team.” Beverly said, and her grin told them all they needed to know. Even Brian, who Will didn’t think liked Hannibal all that much, nodded his agreement.

 

 

Hannibal had forgotten his book at home. And now, recess loomed over him. If he sat on the fenceline without it, he would look like a troublemaker who had lost his recess. He didn’t want that to be anyone’s perception. But he also wasn’t compelled to go play kickball where it looked like Mason Verger was taking intentional kicks at people’s heads, or to hopscotch where Franklyn was chattering away while Tobias attempted to play.

 Finally, he found his salvation in the empty swing set. Two swings, sure to wrinkle his pant legs, but Bedelia would be out late anyway and he could change before she got home, and neither were occupied. They swayed slightly above the wood chips that were tamped down from kicking feet, and he climbed carefully up, clinging to the chains so he would be balanced.

He closed his eyes, kicking in the feet even thought it would scuff his dress shoes, feeling the wind rush over him. He had to admit it was nice, it brought back memories of the time his father had taken him and Mischa and even Bedelia to the park. Hannibal scrunched up his nose, the same way he had in the memory, when he saw his father and Bedelia kiss. Mischa had laughed, swinging below Hannibal since her legs couldn’t kick as hard and their father wouldn’t push her as high as he was allowed to go. It all felt so real, like it was happening right now, that when the small voice next to him broke the thoughts, it tugged at his heart.

“Can I swing with you?” He opened his eyes to see Will Graham clinging to the swing next to him. He slowed down, twisting his body, and nodded at him. He wanted to be sad for a minute, even to be angry at Will for interrupting his happy thoughts, but he couldn’t do it. Will climbed onto the swing, and Hannibal saw where the back of his shirt was coverd in grass and dirt. Even his hair had some clinging to the strands.

“Did you fall?” Will had stopped looking surprised when Hannibal talked to him, which Hannibal was grateful for. It was much easier to get a conversation started when the other person didn’t stare at you for forty seconds.

“Did you not see?” Hannibal shook his head. Will sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose, making the swing swing just a little wilder before he righted himself. “It was Mason. We was playing kickball and he said I didn’t get out of the way fast enough, but he wasn’t supposed to be kicking it over there to begin with, so I don’t even know. But it hit me in the head, and I fell over.”

Hannibal glared across the field, seeing Mason Verger’s head, looking at it with righteous indignation. “I would have stayed to beat him at kickball, but everyone was staring at me, and I couldn't.” He looked over at Hannibal, both of them now swinging at an even height. “Thanks for letting me swing.”

Hannibal wanted to say that Will could always come and swing with him. But words were lost again, and so he just smiled as best he could and kept swinging, happy to stay lower since Will’s shorter legs wouldn’t let him go as high.

“What were you thinking about?” Hannibal looked at him, turning his head to the side like he knew that Bedelia did when she didn’t understand something. Usually him. “Before I came over, you were thinking so hard you didn’t even hear me.”

Will’s face turned red and he looked away from Hannibal on purpose. Hannibal deliberated for a moment. He could tell Will what he had been thinking, about his parents and his sister and the swings. He could finally talk about Mischa when two years of extensive therapy, the divorce, and a year of school hadn’t gotten it out of him. He tried to think whether Bedelia would be upset or not, if he told Will what he wouldn’t tell her. She might think he was lying. He could lie right now, to Will, and he would never know the difference to ask.

“We used to go to the park.” He finally said. Not a lie. Not everything.

“You and Bedelia?” will asked, and Hannibal couldn’t help but be happy that he had remembered.

“And my father. And my sister., Mischa” He said, unable to keep from saying it.

“Oh.” Will said. “I don’t have a brother or a sister. Is Mischa littler than you?”

“She died.” Hannibal said back, and Will looked up at him then, and as Hannibal watched, his own sadness in the forefront of his mind, Will began to reflect it at him, a tear coming to the edge of his eyes to smear on his glasses.

“I’m sorry.” Will said, and then, as if he couldn’t look at him anymore, he looked away.

“What happened to your mommy?” Hannibal said, knowing that now was the time to ask. Maybe will could be honest.

“She didn’t die.” Will said, as if needing to clarify his own plight. “She left. I don’t think she wanted a kid, and my daddy always said I was a happy accident.” He paused for a moment, and wondered if Bedelia felt the same about him. She didn’t seem to thrilled with having children, not anymore. “I don’t think she thought there was much happy about it.”

“Your daddy seems nice.” And Hannibal was happy to see Will smile.

“He’s a great daddy.” He agreed. “Was your sister nice?”

Hannibal nodded, thinking back to how Mischa was the right level of mischievous: she would steal cookies but always share them. She would run away from him, laughing as he tried to catch her, but she always came back. She made him laugh and smile and cry, but she was perfect.

They swung the rest of recess in silence, but Hannibal hadn’t felt that free in a long time, like a weight was gone from his chest. Maybe soon, he could talk to Bedelia about it.

 

 

“Daddy, what happens when people die?” Will asked, and his daddy immediately stopped tickling him. He was warm in his pajamas, the ones with the little dogs on them, Winston curled at his feet, and he hadn’t meant to stop his daddy from tickling him, but it couldn’t be helped. He had been wondering all day since recess and he needed to know.

“Well, that depends on a lot of things. What people believe in mostly.”

“What does that mean?” Will asked, and laid back on his pillow to look up at his daddy, who had his nose scrunched like Will did when he was thinking hard about what they were reading in class.

“Well, you know at church when people talk about Jesus?” Will nodded his head. He tried hard to pay attention in church, especially since it seemed everyone there took it very seriously. “Well, that’s one belief. That when you die, you go to heaven because you’re right with God.”

Will nodded, but he wasn’t sure of Mischa’s status as far as that went. He thought it might be rude to ask. “But what about other people?”

“Well, there a lot of beliefs about what happens. Some people don’t think anything happens, some people think that people go to heaven or a place like it.”

“Well, who’s right?”

“No one knows, bud, its one of life’s great mysteries.” Will frowned, this was not as helpful as it could have been. But at least he could grasp it a little.

“Okay.” He said, and laid down, clinging to one of his toys as he tried to think through some things. But it had been a very long day, and he could feel it getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

“Why are you asking, Will?” His father asked finally.

“My friend, Hannibal.” Will said, and he could feel both the surprise, fear, and happiness coming from his father. Will had a certified friend, and he knew that’s what his father had wanted for him for a long time. “His sister died.”

“That’s terrible.” His father frowned in what Will knew was sympathy. He nodded his agreement. “Don’t think too much about it, bud. You just be a good friend to Hannibal, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.” Will said, and snuggled down into the covers. His daddy reached over to turn off the lamp. He felt him press a kiss to his forehead, just what he needed to get to sleep. “I love you, Will.”

“I love you, too.” He whispered, before he closed his eyes and fell into dreams about swingsets.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Thanks so much for the response to this story, I love these little cuties, and I'm glad you all are liking them too. Your comments always make my day, I promise I will respond as soon as I can! Anyway, I hope you enjoy, please R and R, let me know what you think!

The next few weeks of kindergarten passed uneventfully for Will Graham. He had taken up roost on the swings with Hannibal each day, where they talked sometimes, but usually didn’t say much. He spent lunch listening and watching and occasionally contributing to Beverly’s plans that she was concocting with Jimmy and Brian and technically Hannibal, though he had very little to say other than that they would need a very big bag to get the book out the door. After paying closer attention during library time, Beverly had agreed wholeheartedly. She had briefly suggested that Frederick’s head might be big enough, but Will thought that might have just been because she was annoyed he was talking so loud about some adventure he had been on during lunch when Will knew for a fact he had taken nearly 5 minutes to get the aluminum foil off the top of his applesauce.

Mr. Crawford’s room was changing now though, it was getting to be Will’s favorite time of year: Halloween. Pumpkins began to replace the planets he had started the year with, and happy ghosts that weren’t even as scary as Casper were all over the place. Their activities were more Halloween-esque, they had even colored faces on paper Jack O’Lanterns to hang up on the Word Wall with vocabulary like “spooky” and “orange”.

But now was the pinnacle of school at Halloween time: a trip to the pumpkin patch! Wil stood in his coat, sinking a little into the soft dirt next to the hay wagon while he waited on Franklyn and Tobias to climb up, Franklyn talking to hide the fact that Will could feel he was nervous about the wagon. Will didn’t mind too much, he wasn’t going to let anything ruin his day. Mr. Crawford had told him that if they brought an extra five dollars, they could even get a pumpkin to bring home. His daddy had been very sad when he told him that he was sorry, and that they couldn’t do that, but then Will, when he was getting his coat to get on the bus, had found a neatly folded five dollar bill in his cubby; someone must have been listening when he told Mr. Crawford. Somebody with five dollars, no less!

He waited on Hannibal to climb up in front of him, which was easy since Hannibal’s legs were so long. He had sat next to him the whole way on the bus, and listened to Will’s story of the last time he had been to a pumpkin patch with his grandma before they moved to Baltimore, when Winston had worn dog shoes that looked like ghosts and he had seen pumpkins big enough for him, his daddy, and his grandma to sit on. He had asked Hannibal if he had ever been out to pick pumpkins, but the boy had just shaken his head and Will could tell he was excited for the day ahead.

He reached down, when Will’s fingers couldn’t quite reach the last rung, and helped pull him up with a small smile. He even shared his hay bale with him for the very bumpy ride over, in which Franklyn crying a little was the only issue they had. But Mr. Crawford sat next to him, and Will was glad when he calmed down.

“What kind of pumpkin are you going to get?” He asked Hannibal. Usually he tried to ask questions so that his quietest friend didn’t have to talk, but it seemed that this time it was unavoidable sicne in front of them was a massive expanse of pumpkins. Orange, white, even some that were mottled purple, and baby pumpkins that were still green. Big pumpkins that Will knew would be taller than him, medium sized ones that were round and others that were tall. Big, flat pumpkins that looked almost like silly hats. Teeny tiny pumpkins that even he could hold in one hand.

“One of those.” Hannibal pointed to a patch of orange and white pumpkins, the perfect size for carrying. Will nodded, that was an excellent choice.

“Okay, everyone!” Mr. Crawford was using his loud voice so they could hear him and Jimmy and Brian would stop squabbling over whether pumpkins were better with or without stems. “Everyone can look around the patch, if you brought your five dollars, you can pick out any pumpkin you would like.” Everyone cheered (except Hannibal of course), and Will smiled. He would get to pick one out to. “Stay in groups of two or three, ask me or Mrs. Tier if you have any questions. Yell loudly if you need anything.”

Will watched as people began to sprint away: Beverly, Jimmy, and Brian racign straight to the biggest pumpkins they could see, Margot and Alana to the big flat ones that were pale orange. Tobias stood with Frnaklyn, though Will didn’t think he looked too happy about it, until he stopped crying and they could go look at the little pumpkins together. He felt Hannibal’s hand on his arm, and looked up to see him gesture towards their pumpkins. But they didn’t run, they walked carefully through all the vines and leaves, and Will thought it would be hard for Hannibal to run in his shoes anyway.

“Do you and Bedelia carve pumpkins?” He asked, turning his head to him. Hannibal shook his head in response. “Are you gonna carve this one?” He nodded. “Me and my daddy always try to carve one, but he forgets sometimes where he’s working. Last year, he forgot to get one, so we just hung up a picture of a pumpkin outside so people would know to stop for candy.”

Hannibal looked over at him, smiling at the story, but also looking confused. “For trick-or-treaters.” Will said, but Hannibal still looked confused. Will frowned, did Hannibal not know about trick-or-treat? Where did he get his candy to last through Christmas?

He was about to ask, when he was interrupted by a very friendly dog against his leg. It pushed right up against his hand, licking his fingers until he laughed. “Hi, doggy.” He said. “I’m Will Graham.” The dog, of course, did not respond.

Hannibal took a step back, and Will sort of understood: he had noticed that Hannibal did not like things getting on his nice clothes and this doggy was shedding hair as well as dirt and pumpkin patch remnants all over Will’s pants. Not that he minded, they were already covered in hay. The dog stopped licking him at a whistle, where Mrs. Tier, the lady who ran the farm, was looking at it. It seemed to Will that it knew it was in trouble, so in a last ditch effort of rebellion, it jumped and swiped its tongue right over Hannibal’s scared face before bounding away.

Will waited, holding his breath, torn between wanting to laugh because it was very funny and being worried about Hannibal. The boy blinked. Once. Twice. Then a slow grin spread over his face as he took a cloth from his pocket to wipe his face. “I see why Bedelia won’t let us have a doggy.” He said, and Will did laugh then, happy Hannibal could laugh even though there was a little dog print on the outside of his coat.

 

 

As it turned out, the surprise Mr. Crawford had promised all of them was a trip to the adjoining petting zoo. Hannibal had decided he could forgive the dog for licking him, it was cute and smelled like sweet grass. This goat on the other hand, munching happily on whatever Brian held up to its mouth, was a different story entirely. He was compelled to go and sit with his pumpkin in the hay wagon, where it was tagged with a piece of tape with his name on it. It looked different from the others, most of which had Mr. Crawford’s all-capitals handwriting on them. His was his own thin lettering, and it was easy to tell which it was, along with Will, Alana, and Tobias who had also written their own names.

He would have preferred to sit with it as opposed to looking at all of these animals. He could watch Will Graham though, and he seemed to be having the time of his life. Hannibal cocked his head sideways, looking at him closely. The animals seemed to almost gravitate towards him, away from the other children who Hannibal knew were plenty nice. All except the goat, which really did seem to like Brian, and the pigs which were in their own pen that Mason was currently lauding over to anyone who was within earshot. The donkeys, brahma bulls, mules, and even the pony all moved over to Will where he would pat them until they were perfectly content, even though he didn’t have the quarter to buy the food for the pony like the other children did.

Hannibal thought about that for a second. He thought about Will telling Mr. Crawford that he couldn’t bring the extra five dollars. Mr. Crawfrod had been very nice about it, of course, and Hannibal knew he would never say anything to upset Will. But that hadn’t been enough for Hannibal. He had brought an extra five dollars, to get Chiyoh a pumpkin since she was always so nice. But there was Will Graham to think about now, and that five dollars would make his day. Hannibal had smiled, hiding his teeth behind his hand, when he had watched Will find it under his little coat in his cubby and smile, and look around, and tuck it safely into his shoe. How fun it had been to go look at pumpkins with Will, too! And he had found a pumpkin for Chiyoh to have; he could even do the design for her.

He watched Will talk to the little donkey softly, and it didn’t even bray at him like it had done at Frederick who looked affronted by the whole thing. It nuzzled his hand, expecting food, and Hannibal heard the whispered apology that he didn’t have any for it. The donkey didn’t seem to mind to much, letting Will pet his ears. Hannibal wished he had thought to bring a quarter, just so Will wouldn’t have to apologize. Bedelia had told him, after Will’s father had mowed the lawn, that it seemed they didn’t have much money. Hannibal had wondered, at the time, how she could tell, but he hadn’t asked. She had told him not to mention it, and that there was nothing wrong with that. He had to wonder then, why she had said it to start with. Will was the nicest person he knew, money or not.

“Alright, everyone, one last hayride and then back on the bus!” Mr. Crawford boomed from the front of the barn, and the class went surging back up front, ignoring the animals in favro of their pumpkins. All except for Will, who gave the donkey a few parting pats.

“You don’t like animals too much, do you?” He asked Hannibal, not accusing, just curious. He shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, they were messy, and made Bedelia quite grumpy. He didn’t like large animals, they were scary, but the small ones were okay. Even kind of cute. “That’s okay, they would just get hair on your nice clothes.” Will said, as though he had reasoned it all out in his head.

“They get hair on your nice clothes.” Hannibal said, pointing to Will’s jacket that had long strands of pony hair on the sleeves. Will pushed his glasses up and giggled a little to himself.

“This isn’t even my nice jacket!” He protested, but Hannibal knew he was teasing. “And besides, as my daddy always says, worse things have happened to better people.”

The ride back was bumpy, but on the bus ride back to school, Will fell asleep on Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal smiled, happy to let him sleep, and moved Will’s pumpkin over to his own lap so that it wouldn’t fall on the bus. He woke Will up right before they got there, just in case Mr. Crawford would be mad about him sleeping, and Will smiled at him gratefully, still tired.

The last hour of the day was spent in the company of Ms. Frizzle and her Magic School Bus, which Hannibal did not see the point of, but it seemed everyone else was obsessed with it. Mostly Jimmy, who new every word to the theme song. This episode was about pumpkins though, and since they all had theirs, it was kind of nice to know more about them.

It wasn’t until they were leaving, all packing up their things and Hannibal was pulling his coat back on, that Will came up beside him again. “Hey,” He said, and Hannibal could tell he was a little nervous. “Have you ever been trick-or-treating?”

Hannibal remembered now, the brief mention of that earlier. He shook his head, he wasn’t exactly sure what that was. “Well,” Will said, shifting on his feet. “If you want to, I can ask my daddy if you can come with us. It’s on Friday, I think, and it’s a lot of fun and you get candy and to see everybody all dressed up!” Will said excitedly. “Me and my daddy go every year, and I know you might want to go with Bedelia, but I can ask him if she can’t go or is allergic to candy or something…”Will pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“Okay!” Hannibal said, and smiled at the look of relief on Will’s face. He highly doubted that Bedelia would want to go Trick-or-Treating, in fact, he wasn’t sure that she knew what that was. He didn’t either. They could learn together in time for him to go on Friday. “I’ll ask Bedelia.” He nodded, and they exchanged one last smile before Will had to go because he could see his daddy’s car in the parking lot.

 

 

Chiyoh had loved her pumpkin, though she insisted that Hannibal keep it at home for safekeeping and do the design. Which is how he had ended up where he sat now. Across from Bedelia, sitting on their large front porch that was covered in newspapers, with markers and scalpels and a big carving knife. He looked at her, and she looked at him, sitting with her knees tucked under him.

“Why don’t you draw the deisgn, Hannibal, and then we can try to carve it?” She said, watching him. He nodded, holding reaching into his pocket to take out a picture of Chiyoh he had drawn: it was her pumpkin, after all. He sat to work drawing, which would only take a few minutes, while he knew Bedelia was trying to think of how to get him to talk about his day. He decided to surprise her instead.

“Will invited me to go Trick-or-Treating with him.” He said, accidentally interrupting her. “Sorry.” He apologized, frowning at himself for being rude.

“The boy who came over here with his father?” She asked, her tone more than slightly surprised.

Hannibal nodded. “What is trick-or-treating?” He looked up for a moment at Bedelia, who seemed slightly dumbfounded by all of this. Maybe he was right, and she didn’t know. It would explain why they had not gone.

“It’s an American tradition. Young children dress in costume and knock on people’s doors. Whoever lives at the homes gives them various candies.” Hannibal nodded, trying to reason how something like that had gotten started to begin with. He could think of no logical explanation for what sounded like bizarre behavior. “When is he going?”

“Friday.” Hannibal asserted, as he put the finishing touches on his drawing. Chiyoh stared back at him, outlined in black Sharpie. “May I go?”

“I’ll need to speak with Will’s father first, but I suppose that would be fine.” Bedelia said, taking the pumpkin Hannibal handed to her. Hannibal could feel himself beaming, a lightness in his chest at the idea of spending a day trick-or-treating with his best friend. He wondered if Will thought of him as his best friend? His spirits fell a little bit as he thought that maybe best friends needed to talk more than he did, or eat the same food for lunch, or other things that Jimmy and Brian and Beverly seemed to do. He tried not to let it bother him, he could be a best friend, it would just take some extra work.

He watched as Bedelia took the top off the pumpkin and the pair of them, with sleeves rolled up, pulled all the seeds and stringy bits from the inside before she carved the design into the pumpkin and got them a candle to light it. Hannibal watched her (after he had cleaned off his hands of course) and wondered if there were more things that Bedelia knew how to do that he didn’t know about. Their pumpkin was beautiful, even if it didn’t match the porch very well, and Hannibal even smiled a little when Bedelia put her hand on Hannibal’s shoulder as they went back inside to get ready for bed.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Again, thank you all so much for your continued support, this story wouldn't be possible without it as it is your interest that keeps me going! :) I hope you all enjoy this chapter, its some real cuteness for our favorites little fellas! As always, please R and R, let me know what you think! :)

Hannibal Lecter had soon discovered that getting ready for Trick-or-Treating was far more work than he thought. First, it had been Will’s daddy calling and talking to Bedelia for nearly half an hour about everything they would be doing: what streets they would go down, what candies they might receive, who all would be accompanying them (even though it was just Will and his daddy), and what their end goal was. Hannibal was afraid that by the end of all of her questions, Will’s daddy would hang up on Bedelia and call the whole thing off. He waited, sitting as patiently as he could in one of her hardbacked chairs until it finally seemed she had run out of questions, and had concluded by asking what Will was dressing up as.

That was how the pair of them, along with Chiyoh who was currently parking the car, had ended up in the children’s section at the Halloween store that Hannibal was pretty sure sold regular clothes the rest of the year. Will said his father usually got his things at Goodwill and made his costume, but Hannibal was positive that Bedelia was already close to drawing the line, and that would have been a huge leap over it.

“What do you feel compelled to dress as, Hannibal?” He blinked, looking at the rows of plastic sacks covered with pictures of police officers and hippies and motorcycle riders. He wondered for a moment, if anyone had ever looked as uncomfortable as Bedelia did at that moment, but as per usual, he kept those thoughts to himself. The man who was working their aisle was not good at hiding his feelings, though, and was being quite rude, covering his mouth as Bedelia frowned at the selection.

He stepped forward, reaching out a hand to touch what looked like a clown costume. He didn’t like clowns, and he definitely didn’t want to be one for Halloween. He could be a Disney princess or prince of some sort, there were lots of those costumes, but he didn’t want people to not know it was him, and he couldn’t remember ever having seen a Disney movie in his life.

“Do you see anything you like, Hannibal?” Chiyoh swept up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head. Nothing looked promising thus far. Would it be rude to dress as himself and ask for candy? Probably. He sighed. “Do any of these things speak to you? Which of these things do you wish to be?”

He briefly saw an Incredible Hulk costume, and thought that might be okay. The Incredible Hulk was so big that he didn’t have to talk unless he wanted to! And even then, he didn’t have much to say that his fists couldn’t take care of. But thinking of Chiyoh, it didn’t really speak to him.

Finally, after a familiar feeling of hopelessness began to creep into his chest, he saw it. The perfect costume for him. He grabbed the bag, the very last one of its kind, and smiled, wondering what Will Graham might wear.

 

 

“You look perfect, bud.” Willl’s father said, around the pair of scissors he was holding in his mouth. “I thought the tail would stay on easier, that’s my bad.” Will giggled, swinging just a little so that the tail on his bass costume swung just like a fish would.

“It’s okay, daddy. You made the whole thing by yourself,” He reassured him, walking over to grab his pumpkin shaped bucket which did not match his costume by any means, but would have to do. His costume was made entirely of green and black and white sweatshirts they had at the goodwill near their home, and his daddy had even swen him a hood so could stare out of the fishes mouth, which made it look like it had swallowed some very curly-headed bait.

“Not true!” His daddy argued, teasing. “You drew most of the scales by yourself. And got all the newspaper for the tail.” The tail that was now attacked with ducktape and haphazard sewing since Will knew neither of them had planned for a costume emergency. He giggled, smiling at the praise. He had to admit that he had done a pretty good job on the scales. He hoped no one would mistake him for a real fish! That would be wild!

“Now all we need is Hannibal.” His daddy stood, putting away all of the supplies. Will climbed up onto the couch, Winston sniffing at his costume. Will hoped Winston knew he wasn’t a real fish, but reached out to pat him, just in case he had forgotten. “Say, Will, I had an idea.”

“Okay, daddy, what is it?” He said, trying to scoot without disturbing the tail. Trick-or-treating was bound to start soon, he hoped Hannibal would hurry so they could get lots of good candy and not just dumb old Tootsie Rolls. Although, Will knew his daddy loved Tootsie Rolls, so he secretly didn’t mind, even if Reese’s Cups were far more exciting to receive.

“Well, we’re going to get back pretty late. Since Hannibal will already be here, why don’t you ask him to spend the night?” Will blinked, and thought on that for a moment. He had never had anyone spend the night before, other than Winston of course (but they were related, so it didn’t matter). He thought about Hannibal, and how he always listened to Will tell stories, and how he laughed at jokes, and how he really wanted to show him Winston, and how nice he always was to Will.

“That’s a great idea, daddy!” He said excitedly, only a little bit nervous. “But, we didn’t tell Hannibal before he left, he’s not going to remember to bring a toothbrush!” The all-knowing Mrs. Frizzle had been very adamant that they all brush their teeth twice a day, and unless Hannibal had planned in advance, he would need a brush.

“I think he’ll be just fine, bud.” His daddy said with a wink as a car pulled in outside. Will stood, waddling for a minute as he got re-used to walking with his tail and flippers. He oohed a little to himself at Bedelia’s car, which was shiny and black and very new looking. He oohed at Bedelia, who was very nicely dressed, especially for a Friday, which his daddy had said was the day to be casual. And he oohed at Hannibal, who climbed out of the backseat, dressed in a white coat with a big band and round metal disk on his head and one of those fancy things that doctors had around his neck.

“You’re a doctor!” He said excitedly, running as fast as the fish would allow him. Hannibal grinned at Will’s costume.

“You’re a fish!” He responded with equal enthusiasm.

“I’m a spotted bass.” Will said, pointing to the lighter patches of green scales along his back where his daddy had affixed his makeshift spine of fins. “Hey, I have a question.” He dropped his voice, although it seemed like both Bedelia and his daddy were listening very carefully. “How about after we get done trick-or-treating, you stay the night over here?”

Hannibal blinked at him, and for once, Will had no idea how he felt at all. Then, he smiled, a big smile that showed his teeth. They weren’t perfectly straight like Bedelia’s, but Will thought they were pretty, and he was glad Hannibal showed them. “Okay,” He whispered back, “But I don’t have my pajamas. Or my toothbrush!” Will nodded solemnly, this was the exact problem he knew might happen.

“Not to worry, Hannibal.” Bedelia said, and reached into the front seat to pull out another bag. “I spoke with Mr. Graham already and everything you need is in here.”

“Thanks, Bedelia!” Will said, unable to contain his excitement.

“Will!” He heard his daddy’s stern voice. “Don’t call adults by their first name, her name is Dr. du Maurier.”

Will frowned, and turned to apologize, but she beat him to it. Her face was strange, almost like she was hurt. Will wondered if her name wasn’t actually Bedelia. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings! Maybe she wouldn’t let Hannibal stay! But he never got the chance to clarify himself.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Graham. I’m sure it’s something he’s learned from Hannibal.” But Will’s father didn’t looked appeased.

“I’m sorry, Dr. du Maurier,” Will said, meaning every word. She smiled at him, that strange feeling still on her face.

After a few more minutes, any odd feelings or sternness was gone though, and Hannibal’s things had been placed and locked inside with Winston for safekeeping. Will’s daddy loaded them up in the car, both in the backseat, though Will’s tail took up more room than Hannibal did. Hannibal tapped him on the shoulder as they drove to the first neighborhood. Will knew what he needed.

“It’s real simple,” He said, “You go up and knock on the door and say ‘Trick-or-Treat!’ and then give you candy.” Hannibal frowned a little, and Will could see he looked a bit nervous. “If you don’t want to say it every time, just make sure you’re standing close to me and I’ll say it for both of us.” He assured him, and the frown went away.

 

 

Hannibal Lecter looked over at Will Graham, asleep in one of the two sleeping bags that Will’s daddy had set out for them in Will’s room. One of his hands was out, reaching towards Winston the dog, who had taken a liking to Hannibal and even now would lean over and lick him when he would move around in his own bag.

It had been one of the best days Hannibal could remember. Bedelia had taken a picture of his in his outfit and sent it to his father, who had even called to talk to him! He had gotten candy, loads of it in an old pillowcase that Will’s daddy had gotten for him after his bucket became too full to use, and even though he had only tried one Hershey bar before bed in fear of getting cavities, it had turned into a delicious adventure.

He and Will had traded candy: he had learned that Will Graham loved Skittles more than anything, and he happily would have just given them to him, but instead, Will had traded him the chocolate that had to be one of the best things he had ever tasted. And now, he had so many! And that had just been the start of the fun!

When they got back, Will’s daddy helped them change into their regular clothes, and Will was now using his spotted bass costume as a pillow while Hannibal got the only pillow in the house that still had a case on it (decorated with Dalmatians, of course); and he had made them cups of apple cider! Then, they had watched a cartoon about Great Pumpkins, and even though it was clear that Will was a huge fan of it, it was difficult for Hannibal to follow, but he was happy to have tried.

To pay Will’s father back for all the fun, the man now had an enormous pile of Tootsie Rolls that they had received from a woman who thought their costumes were, and Hannibal could remember her very high-pitched voice saying it, “The cutest things she had ever seen! Trick-or-Treating was amazing, and they had even accidentally gone to both Mr. Crawford and Mrs. Komeda’s house, both of whom were very happy to see them. Mrs. Komeda had even given them both fifty cents with their candies!

Now, though, Hannibal was tired, even if he was having trouble getting to sleep. He was still so excited from the day! His first trick-or-treating! His first candy! His first sleepover! It was all so fun.

And maybe, perhaps best of all, the nagging doubt he had that he wasn’t Will’s best friend had gone away. This was the kind of things that best friends did: slept over and ate candy and played with dogs like Winston. And someday, hopefully soon, he would have Will Graham over to his house and he could spend the night there. He thought about Bedelia as his eyes closed, wondering how she would feel having two children in the house again. Probably pretty good, if it got Hannibal talking more. It would probably be okay. And he fell asleep, his mind not letting those thoughts go any further.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is gonna get a little heavy, for real! Just a warning! Love you all, thanks for continuing to read :)) As always, I hope you enjoy, and please R and R, let me know what you think :)

“Okay, A-Team, listen up.” Beverly took a rather loud bite of a carrot stick at lunch. “We’re running out of time!” They all nodded in agreement. Will remembered their original deadline, of having the book read and returned by Christmas. It was the beginning of November, so they had better get on it. “My moms said I could borrow their tote bag, and my dads told me that what we’re looking for is called the dictionary.” Will nodded, even though he already knew that from his daddy. 

“Which one of your moms?” said Brian as he ate his grilled cheese. Will wasn’t sure it mattered, Brian was the only one of them to even meet Beverly’s moms or her dads. But he also supposed all information was vital.

“Both, you dummy! They share the tote bag.” She rolled her eyes, even though Will knew she wasn’t really mad at Brian. He was yet to see her really mad at Brian, not even that one time he had spilled chocolate milk all over her backpack. “Anyway, we just have to figure out how to get the dictionary into the bag without Mrs. Komeda seeing us.”

“Do you have a plan?” Jimmy asked, and Will almost laughed at Hannibal’s frown as Jimmy chewed very loudly with his mouth open.

“I do.” She said proudly, and Jimmy and Brian oohed appropriately. “Hannibal, this is where you come in.”

Hannibal cocked his head to the side, not quite understanding. Beverly smiled at him. “Let’s all be real, you and Alana are Mrs. Komeda’s favorites.” They all nodded solemnly, though Hannibal looked at her like she might be going just a little crazy. It made Will frown: why wouldn’t Hannibal think that? It was very obvious to him that Mrs. Komeda really liked him. Mr. Crawford did, too, even though Will secretly thought he liked him and Beverly best. Maybe Hannibal didn’t think he could be anyone’s favorite. Will looked away, that was too sad to think about that at lunch.

“We need you to distract her.” Brian and Jimmy nodded enthusiastically. “Talk to her, or get her to show you something outside the kindergarten section. Something that will take a few minutes and is away from the dictionary.” Beverly said. Hannibal nodded seriously, taking his task to heart. Will smiled again, happy that Hannibal had a specific job.

“Then, since Will and Brian are the tallest, you two will need to get it down off the shelf.” Will looked at Brian, and they nodded at each other. “To get it out, me and Jimmy, cause I’ll need the help to carry it, will get it out of the library. We’ll keep it in the back of Mr. Jack’s room by the reading rug until we’re done.”

“Beverly, that’s the bestest plan I’ve ever heard!” Brian whisper-shouted, and Will had to agree that it was indeed a great plan.

“Thanks,” she said, sitting up a little taller. “Everybody, hands in.” They did the same thing they had when they had first become the A-Team, only Hannibal stuck his in first on top of hers, smiling big.

 

 

Hannibal had spent most of the day thinking about two things: his role in the upcoming heist, and the very interesting life of Will Graham, which he continued to learn more about each day on the swings. He learned that their sleepover on Friday had been Will’s first as well, and the Great Pumpkin movie was one in a series about a bald boy named Charlie Brown that was both Will and his daddy’s favorite. He learned that Will liked fishing, and knew the basic mechanics of a car, and also wanted to be able to check out books beyond the kindergarten section (which Hannibal had suspected, but had not been able to confirm). 

Hannibal, in turn, had shared small snippets of his favorite books. How he liked to play instruments: the piano because Bedelia had paid for lessons since he was little, but also the harpsichord because Bedelia had one and he liked the sounds of the metal. It reminded him of Christmas Mass where would hold hands with Mischa and the nice old lady who gave them gingerbread cookies every year as they all said "Peace be with you." He wondered what that old lady was up to now, since he hadn’t seen her in two years. He wondered if she knew about Mischa. He wondered if she had found other children to give her delicious cookies to. Probably, and Will said that at least someone would be getting a good cookie on Christmas. Hannibal had nodded in agreement: cookies were always best when a batch could be shared.

When Chiyoh came to pick him up, however, he found himself distracted. Something was wrong with her, she was frowning for one thing. He knew Chiyoh didn’t smile all the time, but she also rarely frowned. Now though, she stood by the Bentley, hands in the pocket of her Peacoat, with a rather distinct frown on her face. He looked around the parking lot for a minute, seeing Will Graham climb into the Camry they had gone Trick-or-Treating in, watching one of Beverly’s dads swoop her up as she laughed, seeing Jimmy’s Price’s grandma in the front seat of her Town Car with the cat bobblehead off him a little wrapped caramel as he climbed into the backseat, and felt a new wave of sadness wash over him. He loved Chiyoh, but it wasn’t the same.

He climbed in the back, buckling up, and waited in silence for most of the car ride. “Is something wrong?” He finally asked, knowing his voice was barely more than a whisper. She sighed, and shook her head. Not a real answer, which Hannibal now knew was probably a yes. He frowned a little more when he saw Bedelia’s car was in the driveway. She wasn’t seeing patients at home today, she shouldn’t be home for at least an hour.

He walked inside, and took off his shoes like always. It was rude to wear them in the house without express permission (and always rude to wear them on carpet, despite what anyone said) and went to put his things away. Chiyoh went to make him a snack, leaving him to his own devices.

“Is this really the conversation you want to be having?” He heard Bedelia, and for a moment, thought she was talking to him. But that wouldn’t make sense, since they definitely weren’t having a conversation. “I didn’t send you that picture so you could start this bullshit again!” She was raising her voice, and Hannibal knew that never happened. Plus, she had said a bad word! Bedelia never used bad words, at least not in front of him. He knew then that he wasn’t supposed to be listening, but he couldn’t help it.

He peeked through the door of the library, where he could see Bedelia pacing, the phone held to the side of her face. “You think I don’t know that? I know he’s your son, that isn’t the point!” Hannibal’s heart went up in his throat. It was his father! He hadn’t seen him in such a long time…

“Do you even hear yourself? I know you’re his father, you don’t have to say that to me like you actually give a damn.” More bad words. And as Bedelia turned, he could see the tears on her face, which was red like she was both sad and angry. “Where were you two years ago? When he wouldn’t talk at all? When he would scream in his sleep? Where were you? Where were you last school year when the other kids took his shoes and hid them because he wouldn’t talk to them? Where were you then?” She ran a hand over her face, through her blonde hair. It was usually at times like this that Hannibal knew Bedelia would want a glass of wine. She was frustrated. He thought back to what he could remember of all of it. He hadn’t realized it made Bedelia so angry when he had done those things. He couldn’t help it, talking had been so hard! The words would just tangle in his throat and all he could remember were loud noises and grating metal and so much screaming. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as she stood still in long silence, listening to the phone.

“Is that what you think? You think I blame you? She was our daughter.” Bedelia started a fresh wave of crying, but her voice pushed through it. “I don’t blame you for that. It was an accident.” She took in a breath. “But you left us here. Hannibal and I. To deal with that on our own.”

Hannibal wished he had a tissue, or that Bedelia would stop. He couldn't just wipe his face on his sleeve. “He needed you!” She shouted, and started pacing again. “I won’t let you do this to him. Not now.” Hannibal finally heard something be shouted back through the phone, though he couldn’t understand what it was.

“He’s finally adjusting: making friends, having fun. I won’t let you come back just to leave again. I won’t.” Another break.

“He’s fragile.” Her voice had dropped, as if she was talking about a horrible secret. “Especially now. And you and I both know what it was like the last time he was broken. He’s finally getting better.”

Hannibal tried to keep his crying quiet. It would be rude to interrupt, but it was hard. Was he the reason that his father had left? Because he wouldn’t talk or because he couldn’t make friends? Why hadn’t Bedelia told him? He could have tried harder! He would have! He didn’t know...

“If you wanted custody rights, you could have pushed harder for them during the divorce!” Hannibal watched as she hung up and threw the phone at the couch before she collapsed in a chair, hands over her face.

He couldn’t help but cry louder now, stepping back so Bedelia wouldn’t see him. But it was a fruitless effort.

“Hannibal!” He turned around to see Chiyoh through his blurry eyes, staring at him with an almost horrified expression. She must have known, too, about all of this being his fault. He heard the door to the library swing open, but before Bedelia could say anything to him, he took off running, all the way to his room where he crawled under his blankets and pressed his face into his pillow, letting it soak up the tears rolling down his cheeks, and muffled the sobs coming out of his mouth.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayeeee, I'm back! Sorry for the long delay, I didn't have wifi all weekend :) As always, thanks you for the awesome support, and I hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

Something was wrong with Hannibal. This, Will knew for sure. He was always quiet, but he hadn’t said anything at all, not even during math group when he and Will were partners to work on their addition. Nothing at lunch, even though the heist was the next day. Nothing thus far at recess, even though Will had tried to ask him what was wrong. He supposed that maybe some people just needed days where they didn’t say anything at all. Still, he was worried because Hannibal wouldn’t look him the eye. Maybe he was afraid that Will would see how he felt.

But Will didn’t push it, instead, he just swang like he always did, happy a song he and his daddy had sung on the way to school this morning was stuck in his head. Free Bird, he thought it was called, and it had lasted the whole way to school; it was one of his daddy’s favorites and it was one of the only songs that he knew how to play on the old guitar that they had brought from Will’s grandma’s house when they moved.

He could smell trouble though. At the moment in the form of Mason Verger who was staring at them from his usual post of playing kickball. Will kept swinging, even as Mason started to stomp over towards them, Frederick Chilton and Tobias and Franklyn in tow. Franklyn was chattering, and Will pushed up his glasses, normally Franklyn didn’t even play kickball: it was usually Mason and Frederick and some kid named Frances who exclusively wore Dragon Tales apparel versus Beverly and Brian and Jimmy, but the later trio were currently collecting dirt samples from where it had sprinkled that morning, checking for any worms or cool things that might be buried.

“How come you two are always swinging?” Mason almost yelled, stomping on the woodchips until he was just out of range of Will’s kicking feet. Will wished for just a second that the chain would be longer and he could kick him right in the chest. Just for a second. “Are you all too stupid to do anything else?”

Will frowned. That didn’t even make sense, but Frederick gave a little smirk, though Tobias also frowned at Mason and Franklyn had the decency to look downright offended on their behalf. “Maybe its just him.” And before Will or Franklyn or Hannibal could do anything, the bright red ball in Mason’s hands was launched out of his arms and was smacking into Hannibal’s chest. Will could see the surprise, the little bit of pain as Hannibal finally looked up, and even though his chains spun a little bit, he managed to hold on and keep himself upright on the swing.

Mason Verger laughed and laughed louder when the ball rolled back to him. Now, even Frederick looked a little uncomfortable, and Will heard Franklyn start to chatter about going to get Mr. Crawford. Will saw red as Mason curled his lips at Hannibal, probably planning to throw the ball again.

“Get away from him, Mason!” Will said, wishing he was on the ground and could stand in his face. “Get away from here! We weren’t saying nothing bad to you or anything, you just have to be mean ‘cause no one even likes you!” and then suddenly, Will was on the ground, the kickball having hit him square in the chest, harder than it had hit Hannibal, and knocked him right off the swing.

He could hear Franklyn start crying, and he tried to sit up, ignoring the scratches on his back and his head as he pushed himself up. He heard Mason laughing, too, picking up the kickball to probably through it at him again. Will pushed his glasses up on his nose, breathing hard from his hit. “You think I’m scared of you?” Mason said, and raised the kickball over his head, too quick for Will to scramble away.

He closed his eyes. If he was going to get hit, at least he wouldn’t have to see it. Like when his daddy took him to get shots. But it never came. He heard the ball bouncing, and Franklyn scream and the Playground Emergency Whistle all in just a couple of seconds! He opened his eyes to see Mason Verger on the ground, with Hannibal Lecter on top of him, holding his mean face down into the mud, ignoring all the punches Mason tried to hit him with and Frederick telling him to get off of him and Franklyn’s cries.

Will gaped at it, not believing for a minute that it was really Hannibal, who had thus far always needed Will’s help. Hannibal, who hadn’t said anything to Mason before. Hannibal, who had been hit in the chest and done nothing. Hannibal, who Will could now see had anger all over his face as he held Mason down.

Mr Crawford was yelling, running across the playground as fast as he could in his nice clothes, but Hannibal ignored him, too. Will stood, ignoring the woodchips that were all over his back and in his hair and stuck to his pants. “Hannibal?” He said, and his friend half-turned to him.

“Are you okay, Will?” He said softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay. You can let him go.” Hannibal stood, taking his hands off of Mason Verger’s head, his spiky brown hair full of woodchips and came over to Will. Will looked down at Mason, and then at Mr. Crawford who was almost there with them. “Thanks.” He said, and smiled over at Hannibal. Hannibal finally looked him in the eyes, and Will could see how sad he was, and the tears that were running freely down his face.

“I’m glad you’re my best friend, Hannibal.” Will whispered to him. And it was true. He had never had a best friend, especially not one like Hannibal who had just almost beat up Mason Verger on his behalf. To be fair, Mason probably had it coming. He never got any more of Hannibal’s response before Mr. Crawford was taking both Hannibal and Mason to the Principle’s office while also trying to console a still distraught Franklyn.

 

 

“I shouldn’t have let you go to school today, Hannibal,” For the second night in a row, he and Bedelia were sitting on his bed, their backs on the walls, looking out into his room that was completely devoid of clutter. “You can’t attack the other children.”

“He hit me with the kickball.” Hannibal said and Bedelia sighed. “Then he knocked Will from the swings with it, and was going to hit him again.”

“The note from your teacher said as much.” She said. “You’ve never been violent, Hannibal.”

He didn’t respond. It was easier, and, as usual, he didn’t feel much like talking. His chest still hurt and he wanted to check on Will Graham since they had called Chiyoh to come and pick him up from the principal’s office. It turned out the Principal was Mr. Crawford’s wife, whose real name was Phyllis apparently but she went by Bella. She had told Hannibal this, after offering him a candy he didn’t want, and after she had tried to get him to talk. In the end, it hadn’t worked very well, but he had several witnesses to corroborate his story. He hadn’t been able to stop crying silent tears, or being happy about what Will had said to try and focus on talking. And that was consuming of all of his energies.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, and Bedelia sighed in what he knew was resignation. He could be worse, he wanted to tell her, he could be Mason Verger. But he didn’t think she would want to hear it. He still felt bad about the day before. “I won’t tackle Mason anymore.”

She had come into his room and sat on the foot of his bed, trying to coax him out from the under the blankets for a long time. He had done his best to ignore her. He was angry, at her for not telling him, at Chiyoh for keeping it to herself, and mostly at himself for causing all of their problems. He didn’t know how long she sat there, running her hands through his hair, talking to him softly in the voice he had heard her use on some of her patients. But he knew the truth now, and eventually, she had given up and Chiyoh had brought him a sandwich and fruit that he had taken back to the kitchen, uneaten except for a little nibble, that morning.

He knew she hadn’t been expecting him at their very quiet shared breakfast, but it would be rude to skip two meals in a row, and Chiyoh had tried to cheer him up by making blueberry pancakes. She even had made them in the little shapes that usually made him smile and had been Chiyoh’s go-to since he was little and had decided he was going to hate pancakes since he had gotten burned on the pan. The little shapes, ranging from cars to bears to one that Chiyoh called a mongoose had always made him smile. He could feel the hope on Bedelia’s face that morning, as she watched him climb into his chair at the table, but he couldn’t muster a smile, even though he wasn’t mad at her anymore. He still wasn’t, and he could feel guilt settling heavy on his chest. He hated it. It was all he had felt: guilt and fear, for so long. He didn’t want that again. Not after everything had been going so well!

“How is Will?” She asked, and Hannibal could see right through that. She knew that Will was his friend, trying to coax him into talking by bringing up Will. He could try though, for her. For Will.

“He’s okay.” He said slowly. “Will’s my best friend.” He felt and looked down at his pillow, wishing Bedelia would go to bed because he was almost sure he was going to cry again if she didn’t. She didn’t say anything, but he felt her hand pat his knee through his pajamas. He thought of Will’s pajamas, with the little puppies riding on space ships. His own were dark brown and gold; he liked them, but maybe he was supposed to like pajamas like Will’s? It was all very difficult to understand. What should he do about Mason? He couldn’t hit him again, Bedelia would be very upset. She might make him move schools again!

“That’s wonderful, Hannibal.” She said, and he could feel the tears actually come to his eyes now, a whole torrent of thoughts about changing schools again and the kids last year that had hidden his shoes during naptime so he had to walk to the car in the rain without any because he couldn’t tell the teacher. And the other kids that had made fun of his lunch and always took his crackers even though he tried to hold on tight to his box. He didn’t want to go back to that school. He wanted to stay with Will and Mr. Crawford and Mrs. Komeda and the rest of the A-Team. He would have to be extra good, especially now.

He looked over at Bedelia and realized she had a tear leaking from her eye, too. But hers was cut by a small smile which he didn’t understand.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for reading! things are heating up here in kindergarten! Seriously, thank you all for taking the time to kudos and comment, I really appreciate it. That being said, as always, I hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

Will really couldn’t believe that there plan had worked. But here they sat at reading time, huddled around the dictionary, looking at the very first thing written: Aardvark. Beverly was nodding slowing, looking at how many words there were. Hundreds, Will thought, maybe even thousands!

“I can’t believe we got it.” Will personally thought Brian might punch Jimmy is he kept saying that. But maybe he was just projecting what he wanted to do. And Jimmy was just excited, he couldn’t blame him. There had been a moment, when he and Brian were getting it off the stand, that he thought the whole plan would collapse. Mrs. Komeda had turned from where she and Hannibal were looking at the fourth grade chapter books, and was going to go back to the desk. But Hannibal had said enough to get her attention, and she turned back around just in time for him and Brian to get it into the bright red tote bag that Beverly had brought. Will thought it was silly that Mrs. Komeda hadn’t noticed the big giant book or the big giant tote bag, but he wasn’t going to question it. She had even let Hannibal check out one of the big kid books! Will was going to have to ask him how he had done that, he was so tired of reading Rookie Readers.

“Okay, how should we do this?” Beverly said. “I don’t even know most of these words to read them!”

“That’s why reading the book makes you smart, Beverly.” Brian said, and Jimmy nodded.

“Okay.” She said, nodding; we can figure it out more tomorrow when we have longer reading time. Good work, A-Team.” She was only half-whispering and Will saw Mr. Crawford looking at them strangely from the front of the room. But he wouldn’t let anything ruin this day, not after the rough start to the week.

His daddy had been putting some kind of stuff on the bruise on his chest where it was still covered in a big bruise from being knocked from the swing. It didn’t hurt too bad now, and he liked that he got to use the same stuff his daddy used when his muscles got sore after lifting heavy stuff all day. Plus, when that stuff was on his chest, he didn’t have to wear a shirt and Winston’s fur was extra tickle-y when he would sit on the couch. He wondered if Hannibal had the same stuff, or if maybe Bedelia had something different that was good for bruises.

Hannibal wasn’t in any trouble, which was a great relief to Will. Mason Verger, on the other hand, had lost recess for all the rest of this week and now Frances was in charge of the kickball when they went outside even though he mostly spent his time with Reba when she got to come to recess. The information that Hannibal was Will’s best friend had gotten around and was second only to that Frances and Reba were apparently engaged. Will had told his daddy that, and the man had laughed and said that they were a little young for that. Will wasn’t sure what to think and he didn’t know what to get them for a wedding present. Maybe a drawing of a dragon, since Frances liked them so well and he didn’t really know Reba. He also wasn’t sure what all marriage entailed. Frances and Reba seemed to be best friends: maybe he and Hannibal should get married then, if that’s what it took.

Hannibal had come back to school in a somewhat better mood after tackling Mason, and Will was happy he could talk to him again. Right now, as they started packing up for the day, he was humming a pretty song that Will didn’t know. “Hey, Will.” He said softly, stopping humming his song.

“Yeah?” He asked, pulling his back pack up over his coat which was hard since it seemed to be extra puffy today. He pulled his beanie down over his hair as he listened, watching as Hannibal pulled out his own, very interesting hat to wear. It was black, and had little flaps that came down over his ears. Will wanted to laugh, it was a silly hat, but he didn’t want to hurt Hannibal’s feelings.

“Bedelia says you can come over soon if you want to stay at my house. How about tomorrow night?” Friday night, the most magical day of the week.

“I’ll ask my daddy!” Will said excitedly. “I think he’ll say yes, my grandma isn’t coming up until Thanksgiving anyway.” That was true, and then grandma would be having a sleepover at their house. She would stay in Will’s bed, actually, and Will would get to sleep on the couch with Winston since grandma was kind of afraid of dogs. She always came in early, and maybe she could make some of the cranberry stuff Will was supposed to bring in for their class Thanksgiving.

Hannibal smiled, full-teeth, and they walked together in silence out to the parking lot.

 

 

Hannibal watched Will walk over to his daddies car, who waved at Hannibal from the front seat. He gave a little wave back, restricted by his peacoat, but Will’s daddy seemed to understand, even as he reached around to help Will into the backseat. Chiyoh must have been running a little late, he couldn’t see the black Bentley anywhere. He liked Bedelia’s Mercedes (especially since the backseat had pockets), but he had decided that when he was big enough to drive, he wanted a Bentley like Chiyoh.

“Hannibal!” He heard a voice, strange but familiar to him, yelling from the parking lot. He looked for the source, hearing his name called again and again, and eventually found what he was looking for. Standing next to his parked car, not in the pick-up line like everyone else, was his father. His heart swelled a little, he hadn’t seen him in almost two years! Not since he had stormed out of the house with all of his things, too busy yelling at Bedelia to say good-bye. “Hannibal! Come on, you’re coming home with me.”

Hannibal wanted to go, his feet almost started running on their own, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chiyoh pull into the parking lot. In the pick-up line where parents and Chiyohs were supposed to go. He took one step and stopped, looking at his father watching him with frustration. Hannibal tried to think: it was his father! He would be safe, but he didn’t think Bedelia would want him to go with him. He didn’t even think that his father was on the emergency cards that Bedelia had filled out so that she and Chiyoh could come and pick him up. Btu he hadn’t seen him in so long, maybe Bedelia had just forgotten to tell him!

He took another step, watched his father smile a little. “Come on, Junior, let’s go!” He said, waving his hand. Hannibal wanted to giggle like he used to when his father called him that. His father was also Hannibal Lecter, but Hannibal didn’t ever want to be called Junior, he didn’t like that name as much as he liked being Hannibal.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about Bedelia, and he stopped again, shaking his head. He watched for Chiyoh instead, slowly making her way up to the front. He could see his father getting increasingly frustrated, and finally, he saw him cross the line of moving traffic. “Hannibal, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to come with me?”

Hannibal shook his head, now remembering everything else about his father that he didn’t like. The way he had yelled and gotten so angry and frustrated after Mischa was gone. He took a step back. “Hannibal!” He could hear the anger now, and the tears come to the edge of his eyes, wishing Chiyoh would come faster.

He looked up at his father, who he really did look like,  and tried to hold his gaze. He pulled his arm back when his father reached out to put his hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Hannibal, I didn’t drive all the way here for this!” He was yelling. Adults weren’t supposed to yell at little kids. Bedelia didn’t yell. Will’s daddy didn’t yell.

“Hey! Is there a problem here?” Apparently Will’s daddy did yell. Hannibal looked up to see him coming from the parking lot, Will in tow, holding onto his pant legs like he was afraid. “Can I help you?”

“Who the hell are you?” Hannibal’s father said, turning to face Will’s daddy who Hannibal had to admit looked like he would win in a fight at the moment.

“Kit Graham.” He stuck out a hand that his father didn’t shake. Hannibal frowned, wishing he had a tissue to wipe his tears. His father was being very rude. “And you?”

“Hannibal Lecter.” His father answered, leveling his anger, or at least trying to. Hannibal looked at Will, who gave him a small smile. “This is my son, he’s going home with me.”

“I don’t think he wants to do that.” Will’s daddy said, and Hannibal breathed a sigh of relief that someone understood.

“That’s really none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t.” Will’s daddy said, moving to where he was between Hannibal and his father. Hannibal mimicked Will and grabbed onto Will’s daddy’s other pant leg, feeling much safer.

“I didn’t think you wanted to go with him.” Will whispered. “So me and daddy came back.” Hannibal smiled gratefully, feeling the tears finally stop.

“He’s my son!” Hannibal could see his father getting angry again, indignant at Will’s father’s intervention. Hannibal peeked around him, wanting to cry again because he didn’t want his father to be upset or for him to be mean to Will’s daddy. What if Will’s daddy got mad and wouldn’t let him play anymore? What if Bedelia got even madder at his daddy and changed her mind about it being Hannibal’s fault? What if Chiyoh decided he wasn’t worth the trouble and left?

He saw Chiyoh park the Bentley, and start to make her way over to them, weaving her way through the foot traffic of children everywhere. She was marching towards him hands in her coat. “I don’t want trouble, just let the kid go home.” Will’s daddy was standing his ground, and since Chiyoh was headed their way, it seemed that his father was weighing his options.

“Hannibal.” It was Chiyoh’s voice, much calmer, much quieter. “Let’s go home.” She came to him, reaching out a hand that Chiyoh took in her own. “Thank you, Mr. Graham.”

“No problem.” Will’s father smiled over at Chiyoh and gave Hannibal a little wink that made him smile despite his tears. He saw Will give him a small wave which he returned with his free hand.

“Hannibal.” He froze, and Chiyoh stopped with him. His father knelt down besides him on the pavement, but didn’t touch him. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure I get to see you again soon.”

Hannibal blinked at him, and the smile faded from his father’s face, a look of confusion on his face at Hannibal’s non-response. He thought about what Bedelia had said, about how he hadn’t stayed to know that Hannibal didn’t talk or that the other kids had been so mean or that Will was his new best friend or that he had been to his first sleepover. He watched as he stood and walked back to his car, letting Hannibal walk away easily, not looking anymore at Will and his daddy who stood still until Hannibal was safely in the backseat. He could have climbed in on his own, but Chiyoh helped him, and Hannibal decided to ignore the fact that her fingers were shaking when she buckled his seatbelt.

 

“You need a cape, daddy.” Will said, climbing up onto the couch, the last bit of stuff on his chest to heal his bruise.

“A cape?” He heard from the kitchen, where his daddy was getting out things to scramble eggs. “Why is that, bud?”

“’Cause you’re a hero, daddy.” He said back, patting Winston’s tummy where he was full of treats that Will had just snuck him. “And all heroes need a cape.” He heard a laugh from the kitchen and he smiled, but he wasn’t sure why his daddy was laughing. He couldn’t shoot webs like Spiderman or fly like Iron Man and shoot lasers, but Will could tell that Hannibal thought he was a hero, and that was more than enough for Will. He snuggled against Winston, who licked at his fingers, wondering about Hannibal’s daddy being at school and almost falling asleep until his daddy yelled for him to come eat his dinner and his thoughts changed to salmon and scrambled eggs.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I am overwhelmed with the response to this story, in particualr the last chapter. Y'all are just the best and I couldn't keep writing without you, so thanks so much :D   
> As always, I hope you enjoy :) Please R and R, let me know what you think! 
> 
> Also, if you notice the very subtle and small song reference and can tell me the name of the song and the artist, I'll totally give you a shout out at the start of the next chapter and on my tumblr :) Just a fun thing, nothing serious :)

“Grandma!” Will said, running full-speed at his grandma whose real name he knew was Violet Graham, but Will thought that personally there were enough people named Graham in their house between him and his daddy and Winston, and that the world was certainly in need of more grandma’s. She looked a little startled to see him running, but wrapped an arm laden with Save-a-Lot bags around him in a hug as she came through the door.

“Hi, Willy.” She said, and gave Will what he knew was the best grandma smile in the whole world. “Where’s your dog?” Will giggled, his grandma had always been just a teeny-tiny bit afraid of dogs.

“Winston’s taking a nap in the garage. Daddy said it would be better for you if he wasn’t hear to help you move in. I told daddy that was a good idea because Winston never carries groceries anyway.” Will explained, taking some of the bags from her hands to help take them to the kitchen. His grandma always brought all kinds of good things to eat with her, and definitely knew how to make more than scrambled eggs and salmon cakes (not that Will would ever complain about his daddy’s cooking), and always brought groceries to cook those good things with. He liked helping with groceries, it made him feel extra grown-up and let his grandma put her stuff up in his room. He realized though, when trying to put away the cheese, that he couldn’t reach the top shelf of the refrigerator and so he began a bag of things his daddy would have to put away when he came back inside.

“Will, baby, where’s your father?” She said in her heavy accent that was much more pronounced than his daddy's, taking the bag he had set aside for his daddy to put away and began to put it away herself. He was impressed, there wasn’t anything grandma couldn’t do, and she wasn’t even as tall as daddy either!

“I’m right here, mom.” Will heard his daddy coming in the house with the rest of grandma’s clothes in a big bag covered in lots of pretty swirls. She went over, holding his face between her fingers and kissing his face like she always did with Will’s when there weren’t groceries to put away. Will’s daddy hugged her back before moving to carry the other stuff upstairs. “Did you help Grandma put her stuff away, bud?”

“Yeah,” Will answered, climbing into his chair at the table, “but I couldn’t reach the cheese shelf.”

“It’s a good thing,” His daddy laughed, even as he walked away, “Or we’d never have any cheese.” Will blushed, he knew his daddy was teasing, but cheese _was_ one of his favorite snacks. Especially the little square slices he took with lunch everyday that were just as good by themselves. His grandma came up behind him, planting a kiss right on top of his head before she sat at the table with him.

“How’s school been, Willy?” Will giggled again. His grandma was the only person to call him Willy. Daddy said it was because Will’s grandpa had been called Billy and he reminded Grandma of him. Will wasn’t sure how that worked, since his grandpa had passed away right after he was born and was much older, but he had decided not to press it. Besides, he didn’t care what grandma called him; she was nice and she let Will call her grandma even though that wasn’t her name. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

“Good!” He said excitedly, swinging his feet. “I spent last Friday night at my best friend Hannibal’s house.”

“Hannibal? Now that’s not a name you hear everyday.”

“You would like Hannibal, Grandma, he’s real nice and real quiet. Me and him are in Mr. Crawford’s class together and we went trick-or-treating and we swing everyday at recess.”

“He sounds like a nice little fella.” Will smiled, happy to have solidified Hannibal’s reputation with someone as important as his grandma. “Is your daddy still smoking?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, one that meant this was supposed to be a secret.

He shook his head solemenly. “No.” He said, whispering as best he could even though he knew his grandma couldn’t hear that well because his daddy sometimes made jokes about it. “He just chews lots of gum now and gets a little grumpy when they don’t have grape flavor at the gas station.”

Grandma smiled at him, covering her mouth like Hannibal did when he smiled. He knew it was because Grandmas teeth could come right out of her mouth! He didn’t think Hannibal’s could do that, or at least, he hadn’t seen him take them out at their last two sleepovers and his grandma’s were always in a cup of water by the bed when she would get up.

“Did you ask your grandma to help you with Thanksgiving, Will?” He heard his daddy step into the kitchen, and looked up at him, shaking his head.

“Hey, grandma, do you know how to make cranberry salad?” Will asked seriously. It would be rude, he had learned from Hannibal after Frederick had done something similar, to ask her to do something she didn’t know how to do.

“I do, indeed.” She said, folding her hands seriously.

“Well,” He said, "we’re supposed to have Thanksgiving at school tomorrow and daddy thought I could ask you about maybe helping me make some cranberry salad to take with me.” He said happily. “If you’re not too busy,” he added, “I know it’s a long trip from your house.” It was, for sure, it was even farther away than the school!

“That’s very sweet, but I think I’ll be alright,” she said, patting his hand. “As it turns out, I have just the stuff we need with me.”  Will said a little cheer as he stood, determined to help her, not fully understanding the wink between his daddy and his grandma, thinking only for a second that there had been some secret arrangement between them.

 

 

“What is it you are supposed to bring again, Hannibal?” Chiyoh asked him, peering at the variety of bread and spices in front of them at Bedelia’s usual grocery store.

“Stuffing with meat.” Hannibal said, “Franklyn is bringing the stuffing without meat.” He added, thinking that might be of some assistance. He had told Chiyoh that he needed to make stuffing early in the week, but they had all been very busy that they hadn’t had time to come shopping before now: late afternoon on the Sunday before the celebration. She held the green basket with all of their items, having picked up some kind of wine for Bedelia and another pack of pomegranates for Hannibal’s after-school snacks, but she was letting Hannibal get all of the items he could reach off of the shelves.

“Which of these breads seems to be the most fresh?” She asked, looking a variety of breads. Hannibal looked as best he could around the bright orange labels and big nutrition numbers on the sides to point out a loaf that looked extra squishy to him. He liked squishy bread, it always tasted the best when it was toasted.

She held the basket down as he slid the loaf off the shelf, but she had to grab the parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme for them since it was near the top. She held his hand as they went through the meat department, dodging the Sunday crowd here for the fresh meat discount. He knew Bedelia hated shopping on Sundays, she had once said it was like trying to swim the wrong way in a stream full of salmon, but Chiyoh was an expert at this as Hannibal thought she must be at everything else, and they had two rolls of gourmet sausage in no time.

He got to sit in the back with the groceries as they drove home, listening to classical Japanese orchestral music on one of Chiyoh’s CD’s. He tried his hardest to memorize all the ingredients so that one day, maybe next year, he could make stuffing all by himself! (Although he did love cooking with Chiyoh, and he didn't want to hurt her feelings by suggesting it.)

When they got home, Bedelia was sitting at the kitchen table waiting on them. Chiyoh paused for a moment, frowning, but Bedelia just smiled. “Why don’t you sit down, Hannibal? So we can talk for just a moment.” Hannibal thought that was an odd turn of phrase, and he frowned a bit since he really wanted to help Chiyoh cook.

“I will wait on you.” She promised him, taking the bag of groceries he had carried all by himself. “I cannot make the perfect stuffing without my sous chef.” She vowed very seriously and he beamed up at her.

He climbed up into his chair, ready for the day he wouldn’t have to use his hands to get there. He looked at Bedelia, who was still smiling at him. But her mouth was closed and she didn’t really look happy. He frowned harder.

“You know I’ve been talking a lot with your father this week, Hannibal.” He nodded, frowning still when he remembered the incident in the parking lot. Although, it had gotten Bedelia to call Will’s daddy and Will had spent the night over at their house, so it wasn't all bad. Chiyoh had let them help make little desserts and even though Will was not the best at cooking and got so much whipped cream in his hair that Chiyoh had to help him wash it out in the sink, it had been a lot of fun. Bedelia had even let them watch TV after 8 p.m., which never happened!

“Well, the judge has decided that since your father hasn’t seen you in so long that you need to spend Thanksgiving with him this year instead of here with me.” Hannibal’s heart dropped. He didn’t want to do that! He wanted to be here, to help Chiyoh put butter on the turkey once every hour and to stir up potatoes like they had done the last two years since Bedelia had stopped cooking Thanksgiving dinner. “He’s promised it will be a lot of fun, and your grandmother from Lithuania will be coming in to see you.”

Hannibal remembered her. He had seen her after Mischa was gone and she had stayed with them for a couple of days. She was nice, but sad. Everyone had been sad though, so he decided he couldn’t hold that against her. That didn't mena he wanted to go. “You’ll be there on Thursday, and Chiyoh and I will make Thanksgiving dinner here with you on Friday like we always do.”

Hannibal wanted to point out that Bedelia did not usually help with Thanksgiving dinner, not since he was really little, but his voice was all tangled in his throat again and he couldn’t say anything. He didn’t want to go. Not even a little bit. He wanted to stay here. At home. With his drawings and his room and Chiyoh and even Bedelia. Not with his father who was rude to Will’s daddy and to his grandma who kept strange candy in her purse.

“It’ll be good, Hannibal. I’m happy you get to spend some time with him.” Hannibal wondered if this was one of those things that adults lied about, but he didn’t want to upset Bedelia. He remembered, just for second, how happy he had been when he first saw his father. How many times he had pushed him on the swing. Maybe it would be fun. He nodded, trying to smile but knowing he wasn’t doing so well at it.

“Come on, then.” Bedelia said, standing and walking down towards him. “Let’s help Chiyoh make your stuffing.” Hannibal blinked up at her is disbelief as she helped him down before rolling up her sleeves, only looking sad for a second when she thought he couldn’t see her face.

 

 

“Did you make that all by yourself?” Will said, looking at the stuffing Hannibal had inside of a warmer that was almost too big for him to carry. “It’s so pretty.”

Hannibal shook his head, but smiled, and Will knew he had definitely helped. “Did you make yours?” Will opened the lid of his daddies fishing cooler, where the cranberry salad cups were all packed in ice. He had decided that grandma was a genius since she had thought to put the cranberry salad in the muffin tin so that everyone could have an individual cup and he wouldn’t even have to bring a spoon. His daddy agreed that grandma was definitely one of the smartest people he knew.

“I helped grandma mix up the Jell-O.” He said importantly, not wanting to over or understate his involvement. Grandma had done most of it, but he had carried over all the fruits and boxes and bowls and had indeed helped to stir the Jell-O. He looked around the room, at the card the Frances was helping Reba sign that Mr. Crawford had made for Alana’s parents for donating all of the turkey from their restaurant. They were all filling out cards with what they were thankful for to hang up on the wall.

Will had written his in his little block letters, he was thankful for his daddy and for Winston and for Grandma and for Hannibal and for Beverly and Alana and Brian and Jimmy and Mr. Crawford but all those names wouldn’t fit so he just put “friends”.

“Are those real muffins, Will?” Beverly turned around, looking down at his cooler, having filled out her card by writing mom, momma, dad, and daddy on it, though Will didn’t think there as many D’s in dad as she had written. Beverly’s dads had carried in two huge baskets of yeast rolls this morning, one of which they said came from Beverly’s moms, and so her food wasn’t on her desk like Will and Hannibal’s and Jimmy and Brian’s pies.

“They’re cranberry salad!” He said, “They just look like muffins!”

“My daddy makes that for real Thanksgiving at our house, it’s the only thing dad will let him cook since he accidentally burned the ham one year.” She said, very matter-of-fact. “Hey, listen, everyone!” And Brian and Jimmy and Hannibal leaned in to her. “How far are we in the book?”

“Debt ceiling.” Hannibal said, and Will smiled, thinking that was a silly word but it was in fact where they had ended up last reading time when they had gotten so far in only him and Hannibal could read. Even then, they didn't know all the words and had to guess sometimes.

“That’s just D!” Beverly said, exasperated. “We’ve got to figure out how to get it back, you all know Mrs. Komeda is already suspicious about someone stealing it.”

Will thought about it, remembering Mr. Crawford making an announcement and asking anyone who saw the dictionary or heard anything to come forward. Will felt bad, but they had tried so hard to get it, it couldn’t hurt! Besides, they were definitely going to return it, it was just a matter of when.

“We’re not close to being done, Beverly.” Brian insisted, waving his arms, almost sending his pumpkin pie skittering off the desk.

“Well, we’re about half-way there,” she said, “That’s much us twice as smart as Mason and Franklyn and Frederick anyway. We don’t want to risk it with Santa.” Will wasn’t sure that was how math worked, but Beverly sounded so confident, he didn’t question it. “I’ll work out a plan to get it back after Thanksgiving.” She said, and they all nodded, turning back so as not to incite suspicion.

It was only a few minutes later and Will was carrying his cooler down the hall with everyone else to the room where they would be having their dinner instead of their usual lunch, even though Mr. Crawford had promised they would still have milk and juice for drinks. He sat next to Hannibal, letting Mr. Crawford and the nice lunch ladies take his cooler away to put drinks in, smiling a little at Frances who sat next to him even though Frances didn’t smile back.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving, Will?” He heard Hannibal’s soft voice ask him. He sounded unsure, and as Will looked at him, as some of the parent chaperones began scooping up food for everyone and Mr. Crawford began to get their activity cards ready for discussing things upcoming in December and for their all talking about what they were thankful for.

“My grandma’s here. She made the cranberry salad muffins.” He said, “We always have Thanksgiving at home and go shopping on Friday. That’s the reason we have a TV.” Will said, and he remember sitting in the cart for a long time, napping on his daddy’s chest while they waited for the little TV’s to go on sale.  Grandma had bought it for them as a housewarming gift for a whole fifty dollars, and his daddy had set up the cable box all by himself so they could watch cartoons. “It’s the only day of the year that grandma says they have her favorite jeans on sale, so I guess she needs lots of new pants.”

Hannibal nodded solemnly, and Will wondered if Hannibal and Bedelia would be going shopping to. It was funny, to picture Bedelia with all of the wild people that Will had seen while shopping with his grandma.

“What are you doing, Hannibal?” He asked, as a huge plate of food was put down in front of him. A roll and turkey and potatoes and green beans and stuffing and one of own little cranberry cups. He started eating, watching Hannibal pick up his fork and poke aimlessly at the plate. “Are you and Bedelia making a turkey?”

“We are on Friday.” He answered, and Will frowned, confused and quiet even as the table began to grow increasingly louder as people talked and yelled and ate. “I have to go to my daddy’s on Thanksgiving.”

“Oh,” said Will. “Okay.” He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t think he liked Hannibal’s daddy very much, and had called him a not very nice word once they had gotten back in the car (he definitely deserved it). “Well, I’m spending Thanksgiving with my daddy, maybe that’s just what you’re supposed to do.” Hannibal seemed to give it some consideration while Will ate a spoon of mashed potatoes.

Finally he nodded, and Will smiled at him, happy to have helped. “Are you going to help Chiyoh cook the turkey? We always have ham ‘cause my grandma says turkey tastes like napkins, but maybe not if you know how to cook one.”

He was happy to see Hannibal give him a little smile at that, and Will couldn’t help but giggle himself. 

“Yes.” Hannibal said. “I get to help her baste it.” And finally, he began to eat. Will breathed out a side of relief, glad that Hannibal was feeling better. He took up a fork of turkey, and smiled over at Alana. That turkey didn’t taste like napkins either, it was pretty tasty and even better when he drug it through the mashed potatoes.

Hannibal started to smile more, and Will had to admit that the paper turkey Hannibal colored during dessert was easily the prettiest, even though he was sure that Hannibal thought the same about Will’s own since Hannibal never seemed to notice how nice his art was in art class or otherwise. He even hummed a little when they filled out the cards to give to someone they were thankful for. Will figured he should give his to grandma for doing such a good job on the cranberry salad: even Mason had liked it, though he would never say that.

Finally, it was time to go home, and Will stood by Hannibal, cooler in his gloved hands. It was starting to snow and his daddy had made sure he had extra socks and his gloves since it was so cold! Hannibal had little gloves too, ones that matched his hat with all the flaps. “I hope you have a good time at your daddy’s house.” Will said seriously, as they walked out to the cars.

Hannibal looked over at him, nervous but smiling. He reached into his bag and handed Will a little envelope. Will stared at it for a second before he realized that it was the cards they had made at dinner, for the people they were thankful for. He smiled big, and reached out, pulling Hannibal into a quick hug, his friend shocked but after a second, he hugged Will back.

“Bye, Hannibal!” He said, running to catch up to his daddy at the front of the line, carrying his letter, knowing it would go perfect with the drawing Hannibal had given him back at the very beginning of school. He turned and saw Hannibal's little gloved wave as he closed the door to the backseat.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! This one's a little long, but Hannibal *might* finally catch a break! Thank you all for reading and keeping up with the story, y'all are the greatest :D   
> As always, hope you enjoy and please R and R, let me know what you think!

“What are you making there, Willy?” Grandma was in her usual good mood, and Thanksgiving had only served to make it better. Will had been home for two days with her while his daddy was working. Apparently, it was a good time of year for people to be buying new tires and new car pieces and there was some kind of turkey day discount via the local car dealership, so he had been busy for days. This morning, a lady had called and offered him a hundred dollars to chop down a tree in her yard so she could decorate it for Christmas, and he had apologized before he left, even though Will thought it was perfectly okay. A hundred dollars was a lot of money! Enough for a car, maybe!

“I’m working on Hannibal’s Christmas present.” He said, matter-of-fact. It was a multi-part present, he had decided, and since his Grandma had taken him to the craft store because she wanted to embroider something, he now had the supplies to make it happen.

Grandma came over, hovering over his shoulder and watched him draw. He had decided to make it some of Hannibal’s favorite things, and his favorite animal was a deer. Will had thought that with some practice and some decent drawing paper that he could make a deer that Hannibal could hang up in his room. When Will had gone over to his house, he hadn’t anything hanging on the walls: no Spider-Man posters, no Charlie Brown pictures, no pictures of him and Bedelia, nothing. Will knew that needed to change.

“Your dad told me a little about this fella.” She said, sitting down at her embroidery. Will could tell that she was getting tired, she was walking slower and had said a bad word this morning when her joints were apparently bothering her. Will was not looking forward to being a grandpa and having his joints hurt like that. He could see why she was tired though, she had spent all morning getting a ham in the oven. Will had wanted to help, but the ham was easily as big as he was, and his grandma promised instead that he could help with the mashed potatoes they were starting soon, and the stuffing that was his daddy’s favorite. “Why don't you tell me about him, Willy.”

“He’s my best friend.” He said, thinking hard. “He’s real quiet cause some sad stuff had happened to him. His mommy’s name is Bedelia, and she seems a little mean at first, but she’s actually real nice. I think she’s just sad, too. Then there’s Chiyoh who takes care of him and makes him snacks and picks him up and stuff. But today’s he’s at his daddy’s. I don’t like his daddy very much, did Daddy tell you about that?” Will babbled happily until he realized that he might be overwhelming his grandma just a little bit and he stopped.

“He told me about that.” She said, continuing her sewing. “What do you mean by sad stuff, baby?” She asked, looking up at him with eyes that Will noticed happily were the same color blue as his and his daddy’s.

“His little sister Mischa died.” Will said, “and his daddy and Bedelia got a divorce.” He had asked his daddy why Hannibal’s parents didn’t live together anymore, and he had learned a new word. He had wanted to ask his daddy if he and his mommy had gotten a divorce, but it didn’t seem like something his daddy really wanted to talk about much more. “He’s real nice, Grandma, he just got a bad start.” Will assured her, using the same language Mr. Crawford did when someone took a little longer on their reading or spelling or writing their name than they were supposed to. A bad start, maybe, but Will knew that didn’t mean you had to have a bad finish.

His grandma smiled at him, patting him on the hand as she went back to sewing. “He must be if he’s your friend, Willy.” She said, starting to hum a song. Will wished the ham would get done sooner, it smelled delicious, but he didn’t want to eat it without his daddy and who knew how long that would be?

He finished one of the deers antlers, coloring it in extra dark with his crayon stub to make sure it was clearly an antler, and remembered his other exciting development about Hannibal. “I’m going to ask him to marry me.” He said happily, and Grandma raised her eyebrows.

“Pretty young to be getting married, Willy.” She said, but she smiled, too. “Why the rush?”

“Well, Frances and Reba in my class are getting married because they’re best friends, so I thought me and Hannibal should for sure. Hannibal said that Chiyoh said that some people got married for tax breaks, but we weren’t sure what that meant, but we figured that also couldn’t hurt.” Will looked up at his Grandma and frowned when he could see how close she was to laughing. “What?” He said indignantly, almost breaking his crayon on accident.

“Nothing,” she said, and smiled at him. Will relaxed a little, “Maybe I need to get remarried so I can get a break on my taxes.”

“That’s a good idea!” Will said, happy to have helped. He started coloring again, making sure to darken the fur.

“So, do I get an invitation?” She said, and Will blinked before nodding vigorously. “Good,” she said, “I’d hate for my favorite grandbaby to get married and me miss it.”

“That wouldn’t be nice at all, Grandma.” He said, and that was true. Grandma was always super nice and baked the best cookies. “I always want you at my wedding.” She patted his hand again, her fingers knobby like ginger roots she used to cook with and he kept coloring until he felt the front door open with a gust of cold wind. He smiled, his daddy was home! It was finally time for Thanksgiving!

 

“’Annibal, do you watch football?” Hannibal sat with his hands folded in his lap on the couch. Trying to take up as little space as possible. His grandmother wasn’t the only person visiting, it was also his Uncle Robert and his wife, the Lady Murasaki. They were nice enough, very polite at least. But Hannibal was nervous, so much that he had to hold his hands together to keep them from shaking and he hadn’t said a word since Bedelia had dropped him off.

It was snowing outside, and he was almost afraid that she wouldn’t be able to come back and pick him up in the morning, but she had promised. A real, actual promise that he knew she wouldn’t break before she had given him a little hug before she left. He knew he wasn’t very good at smiling, and now he knew that Bedelia was not very good at hugging. Maybe between the two of them, though, they would be okay.

His father was an interesting person. He was a lot like Hannibal remembered him, actually, only he had told him directly that he had stopped drinking and even to Hannibal, he was much less loud since Hannibal could remember all the shouting. But it was hard to talk, to even think when he was around him. He didn’t know what to say. And even when he tried to answer his father’s questions, the words just stayed put in his chest, not even pushing at his throat like usual.

His grandmother had figured that out rather quickly, and had decided that if they were going to have a conversation, it would have to be mostly, if not all, ‘yes or no’ questions.

He shook his head, even as she stopped the TV on a football game, with lots of people yelling and shouting and tossing around the ball in bright uniforms. “I have never understood this game. It does not appeal to me, the savagery of it is appalling.” He looked over at her, where she had her eyes narrowed through her glasses, looking at the screen as if trying to get some special meaning from it. He liked her voice, it was a different accent than anything he had heard before. Almost like his father, but his father was starting to sound more and more like Mr. Crawford. with his not-there accent

He was in the kitchen with Hannibal’s Uncle and Aunt, and Hannibal had spent most of the morning with his grandmother watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV. He had seen Charlie Brown float by, and had made a note in his little notebook to tell Will when they got to go back to school. He wondered if Will had watched the parade with his daddy and the Grandma he had spoken of. He hoped so, it was fun to think they had done the same thing.

“You know, ‘Annibal, you are not the first ‘Annibal Lecter.” Hannibal secretly liked that she didn’t say H’s, but she was glad that his father wasn’t in the room, too, or it would have been confusing. He nodded.

“My husband was also ‘Annibal, after the great general.” He blinked at her. This was the first he had heard of it. He didn’t know any great generals. Except for George Washington and the one who sold car insurance on the very loud commercials at Will’s house. “And then your father, and now you.”

Hannibal nodded, trying to think through that. He wondered if the general named Hannibal knew that there were people named after him. “I wish you could have met your grandfather. He would have loved you.” She said, “You look just like him as a little boy.” Hannibal squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. His grandmother was speaking wistfully, not really to him, but more to herself.

He tried to picture Grandfather Hannibal. He wondered if he talked more, or if he was just as quiet. Did he like the strange Lithuanian fish bake they were having instead of turkey? Would he have liked Mischa? What was his favorite animal? Did he like to cook? He frowned, not really sure that there was another person like him. Then again, maybe everyone though that.

“’Ow is school?” It was a sly move, one designed to get him to talk. He swallowed hard, trying to get ready to talk. He didn’t want to be rude, but she changed back to yes or no questions quickly. “Do you have many friends?”

“I have Will.” His voice sounded quiet, even to him, but she perked up over it, even with the sound of the TV. “And my team.” He thought that saying the name might give too much away, so he let the A-Team remain their secret.

“Good people?” It took him a second to realize that it was a question, and he shook his head yes. Will Graham was the best person he knew. His very best friend.

“You and Junior watching the game?” Hannibal heard his father say, second before he stepped into view. He frowned, he had decided definitively that he did not like that nickname.

“I do not think ‘Annibal appreciates you calling him that,” his grandmother said matter-of-factly. “It is false, anyway, ‘e is ‘Annibal Lecter the third.”

“Thank god I missed that name.” His Uncle and Aunt joined them, and the two couches and one recliner were now full of Lecters. Hannibal realized it was the first time he had been near so many people with his last name in a long time. Bedelia was very insistent that Lecter was not her last name, and even when his father had still lived with them, it had only been the two of them for a long time.

“I always told you mom liked you best.” His father responded, smiling over at his Uncle. His father’s teeth weren’t pointy like his, and Bedelia’s weren’t either. He wondered why then, his had to be that way.

“That is not true.” His grandmother said, and she winked over at Hannibal, who widened his eyes in surprise. “I like ‘Annibal best.” And she patted his arm. He smiled, even though he had to fight not to squirm away from her. They all laughed, but not at him. It was nice. Warm. He smiled again. Maybe he would be okay.

 

“I will miss you, ‘Annibal.” His grandmother said to him as Bedelia’s black Mercedes pulled into the driveway. “My quiet soldier.” He didn’t feel much like a soldier, but she was talking like maybe she wasn’t talking about him again, but about another Hannibal that he had learned more about the night before.

She kneeled down, and he could hear her joints cracking. “Forgive your father, he is trying.” She whispered where Hannibal’s father, who stood with his arms crossed in the blowing snow a few inches away, couldn't hear her. He looked at her, into the maroon colored eyes that she and he and Uncle Robert all had and blinked. Without really thinking, he leaned forward and hugged her. She had been perfect. She had cut up his fish even though he could have, and snuck him extra dessert when his father wasn’t looking, and had tucked him in to sleep in the new bed his father had bought for him. He had been afraid to sleep by himself, and so she had sat, humming softly and telling him a story about his grandfather and her and living in Lithuania until he had fallen asleep holding her hand.

She hugged him back, squeezing him the perfect amount. She was good at hugs, like Will was. “I love you, Senelė.” He said quietly, just so she could hear him talking, and she smiled, pulling his ear flaps down tighter. She had taught him that word last night, not her name, but the right word for grandmother.

“You have all of your stuff, Hannibal?” His father asked as Bedelia got out of the car. He took Hannibal’s suitcase, putting it in the back for him before he kneeled down like his grandmother had. “Thanks for coming over to see me. I’d like to do more together if you like.” Hannibal said nothing. He had fun, it had been fun and he liked his aunt and uncle and senele. But it was still hard to look at his father and not to think of everything else. Still hard to speak.

“Okay.” He said, even though he knew his voice sounded like sand. His father smiled at him, patting him on the arm.

“Thank you, Bedelia, for bringing him over.” He said as Hannibal climbed in the backseat and closed the door, not hearing the rest of their conversation. Eventually, Bedelia climbed back in, turning around to make sure he was buckled in before she headed down the driveway. He watched his Senele until the snow was too blurry and she was too far away to see anymore.

“Chiyoh is excited to have you home.” Bedelia said suddenly, in her tone that let Hannibal know she was definitely worried about him. “She told me that the turkey would need basting right after we got home.”

Hannibal smiled: Chioyh hadn’t forgotten about him after all, even though he had been gone a whole night. “Are you going to help us cook, too? Everyone loved your stuffing…” His voice faltered when she didn’t react. “Sorry.” He whispered. “You don’t have, too. I know its messy” He added quickly.

“No.” Bedelia answered, shaking her head as if trying to shake away something she was thinking hard about. Frederick did that sometimes in math when he couldn’t remember if 7 came before or after 8. Frederick was an interesting boy. “Of course I’ll help you. I would love that.”

“Thanks, Bedelia.” He said, whispering still with a small smile. He heard a soft sigh, almost like she was upset.

“You’re welcome.” She didn’t sound upset. Hannibal ran through his first Thanksgiving in his head. What could he tell Bedelia? What could he speak about? Uncle Robert and his joke with the quarter? Lady Murasaki and the picture of real samurai armor she had showed him? His daddy picking him up for just a second so he could see the snow out the window? His grandmother singing her Lithuanian lullaby to him? Should he tell her those things? Or would it just make her sad?

Instead, he stayed quiet and remembered being nervous and leaving and not knowing what his daddy was going to do and still being kind of afraid and how much he missed Will. He had decided that the real secret to all of this was knowing when to stay quiet.

 

 

Will was napping on his daddy’s shoulder: Wal-Mart was entirely too loud and there were too many people but that’s what earmuffs and his daddy’s arms were for. They had been shopping with Grandma for well over an hour, and it wasn’t until she came towards them and the cart, shouting “Willy! Willy!” at the top of her lungs that Will was worried enough by anything to look up at her. She had her arms full of pants that all looked the same to him, so he wasn’t sure why she needed so many pairs. Maybe it was a grandma thing to stock up on pants.

“I’ve found something for your future husband.” That made him perk his head up. He loved Grandma and his daddy, but he had missed Hannibal and the rest of the A-Team since he hadn’t seen them in so many days he could barely still count them. For a second, he thought she meant a pair of pants, but he had never seen Hannibal wear jeans so he didn’t that would be a good gift.

“I thought you could give him this with your Christmas gifts.” She drawled out, shifting the clothes around to hold out a hand, holding a little statue of two deer.

“It’s perfect, Grandma!” He said, hugging it tight to his chest. “Hannibal will love it!”

“Mom…” His dad said,

“Hush up, Kit, it’s only two dollars and I’m buying.” She said, and Will smiled so big that his daddy’s eyes softened. “Besides, if we want this union to last, we need to give our full support.” Will watched his daddy hold up his hands in surrender, and Will hugged his grandma as best he could through all the pants.

“Thanks, Grandma!” He said through them. “It’ll go perfect with my drawing.”

He hoped Hannibal was having a good Thanksgiving. And even if he wasn’t, now he would definitely have a perfect Christmas.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Not gonna lie, this one is pretty cute! We'll be getting into some more adventures in upcoming chapters, you'll see, this one is real fluffy! :3 Thank you all for reading, reviewing, kudosing, and coming back: I very much appreciate it! As always, I hope you enjoy, please R and R, let me know what you think!

“Welcome back, everyone!” Mr. Crawford boomed from the front of the class. Will blinked, he was excited to be back, even though he had to get up early to ride with his daddy like always. But was excited to see Beverly, who had told him quickly that he she had figured out their plan for getting the dictionary back that week during reading time. He was excited to see Jimmy and Brian who were exchanging stories about seeing a lot of cousins over the break and how Jimmy’s cousin was allergic to gluten so everything was gluten free. Will wasn’t sure how they had gotten a gluten -free turkey, but he thought maybe it was better not to ask and just to eat it.

Mostly, though, he was excited to see Hannibal. Before his grandma had left the morning before, she had made sure he had everything he needed for Hannibal’s Christmas present, including leaving his daddy her recipe for five-ingredient brownies (which she had brought with her from the store, which Will found a little suspicious). He and his daddy were planning on making those, but his daddy said they needed to wait until closer to the actual wedding so they wouldn’t go bad. Will was happy his daddy was smart enough tot think of that, because he, and he was pretty sure Winston, too, had really wanted a brownie.

Hannibal was just as happy to see Will and had given him a hug when they came into class that morning, even though they hadn’t had much time to talk and wouldn’t until math groups. Hannibal seemed in a pretty good mood, and now will was almost shaking in his seat with excitement. It was only further accentuated when Reba had told him that today at recess in the gym, since Mr. Crawford said they couldn’t go out in the snow, that Will could come to her and Frances’ wedding. Will was excited, he had never been to a wedding and now he would know how one worked.

He had asked his daddy about how to ask someone to marry him: his daddy had laughed a little, but then told him the whole deal about getting a ring and brining up good reasons and picking a date and all of that business. So Will had brought one of the Ring Pops left over from Halloween and was ready to ask at the end of recess.

Even as Mr. Crawford started talking, letting other people tell about their Thanksgivings like Alana and Margot, Will couldn’t help but watch Hannibal. He sat perfectly straight in his seat, with his hands folded and was listening intently as Mr. Crawford told them about what the month of December would bring. He talked about getting ready for the holiday sing-a-long and that their class would be doing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (which Hannibal cocked his head at), and how they would be doing the Holiday Pen Pal Project with some soldiers and were all supposed to wear red sweaters or shirts or jackets on Thursday so that they could have their picture taken during library time. Will hoped that his red flannel would be okay, even if it did have a little black on it. Grandma had a picture of him and daddy in their matching flannels, and he figured if that was good enough for Grandma, then it would be good enough for Mr. Crawford. Hannibal took in all the news carefully, writing down notes in his little notebook with an outlien of a chef on it. Will wondered if Hannibal was planning on being a chef: maybe that might make him happy all the time! Did chefs have to talk to people? Will wasn’t sure.

Either way, it was clear Hannibal had no idea what was coming at recess, and Will was even more excited as a result. So much so that when Hannibal asked him to hand him a pencil during math group, he almost blabbed it out loud.

“Are you okay, Will?” Hannibal asked softly, as Frederick handed him a pencil instead. Will nodded, trying to throw off suspicion.

“Yeah!” He said, “Take-aways are just hard.” He fibbed a little, feeling bad, but knowing he couldn’t tell the truth. Hannibal blinked once, twice, then went back to his own sheet of take-away problems.

“I like take-aways more than addition.” Alana said from Will’s other side. “I think their neat because it’s usually what happens in real life. You don’t always make more cookies, you usually just eat them.”

Will paused, thinking that through. He slowly nodded, Alana was exactly right. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been running low and just made more cookies, but he could remember every box of Oreos he’d ever had getting smaller and smaller and smaller.

“That’s a good point, Alana.” Hannibal agreed softly, and everyone, Will included, looked at him in surprise. Will didn’t know that he had ever spoken to Alana before, at least not directly.

“Thanks.” She said, and smiled over at him, going back to her paper. Will smiled. Hannibal was talking more, he must have had a good Thanksgiving.

 

 

Hannibal talked a little more at lunch about his break. Will listened to a great story about Hannibal’s grandma who sounded like a real nice lady. Will wondered if she knew his Grandma. He hoped that all grandmas were friends! They were both nice ladies who seemed like they might get along real well! And he listened to stories about Hannibal basting the turkey and found out what basting was (it sounded extra difficult) and how Bedelia had even helped to make more stuffing.

In turn, he told Hannibal about shopping with Grandma and helping her to fold all of her new pants for the drive back to Louisiana. And how his daddy had got their Christmas tree even though they hadn’t decorated it yet because the only ornaments they had were the ones that Will had made in preschool and the one from Will’s first Christmas and his daddy couldn’t find the box in all the moving stuff yet even though he had looked for more than an hour so Will wouldn’t be upset.

“Beverly, we’d have to have someone completely stupid to fall for that.” Jimmy gasped at Brian’s strong language, but Brian held up his hand. “Who is dumb enough not to have seen us reading that thing everyday?”

Will realized they had missed a huge part of the planning, so he turned his attention and listened intently. Beverly smirked over at him, and turned over to look at the big lunch table where most of the class was eating.

“Seriosuly, Beverly,” Jimmy finally agreed, “They’d also have to be easy to trick! It’ll never work.”

“Hannibal,” she said, and Hannibal blinked up at her, “Here’s where you come in again.” Hannibal nodded, and Will beamed with pride.

 

 

“Woah,” Hannibal said in what Will thought was a very convincing tone. “What’s that, Frederick?” It was reading time. Time for Beverly’s plan. They had spread out so they wouldn’t be suspicious, which Will thought might work better if Jimmy wasn’t holding his book upside down. He pointed very directly where the dictionary was sticking out from under the stack of pillows they hid it under.

“I don’t know.” Frederick said, standing up, a confused but arrogant look on his face. As if he was the one to point it out to Hannibal. He stood up, moving away the pillows and blankets. “Oh my gosh!” He yelled, “Mr. Jack!”

Will knew it was rare that reading time turned into anything exciting and Mr. Crawford was back there in just a few seconds. “It’s the missing book from the library! I found it!” Frederick said, puffing out his chest as Mr. Crawford reached down.

“Thank you, Frederick.” Mr. Crawford said, looking puzzled, but happy to have it back. He patted Frederick on the arm. “Mrs. Komeda will be very happy to have this back.”

“You’re welcome!” Frederick said, “Anytime, Mr. Jack!” He said, giving him a full smile. Will did his best to hold in his laugh, looking around them at Hannibal who smiled at him. Full teeth.

Beverly’s plan had worked perfectly. Again.

 

 

“Do you promise to play together and eat lunch together and spend time together and never hit each and not keep secrets?” Franklyn said, standing in between Francis and Reba who were holding hands. Hannibal watched carefully, shifting in his seat next to Will. He had never been to a wedding before, at least not that he could remember. Bedelia had a picture in the attack of his father holding him while he was asleep as a baby in his arms because one of his father’s cousins was getting married. He had seen Bedelia find that picture once, but it had been right after the divorce and she had cried and he had never told her that he saw. He wasn’t talking much at the time and he had cried because she was crying, even though she hadn’t seen that either. Or maybe she just hadn’t told him.

“Frances, if you do, say I do.” Hannibal wasn’t sure how Franklyn had been made the officiator at this ceremony. He kept pausing to look at people in the crowd and smile at them. But Hannibal supposed he was trying really hard and he was the only one who knew all the words.

“I do.” Everyone around him, except Will, clapped so Hannibal followed suit. Hannibal thought that might be the first time he had heard Frances say anything at all. He and Reba were gone for part of the day for speech and reading classes, so he didn’t always see them. Maybe Frances was like him and just didn’t like to talk.

“Reba, if you do, say I do.” Franklyn said with a big grin at Tobias who rolled his eyes in response.

“I do.” Reba said, and everyone clapped again, this time Hannibal knew to do the same, as did Will.

“Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. You can kiss if you want to.” Hannibal didn’t think that was what grown-ups said, but he didn’t know any better. Reba giggled, but Frances leaned forward and kissed her right on the cheek before they held hands. Everyone cheered again, even Mr. Crawford, who was watching from the gym bleachers. Everyone in attendance stood up off the gym floor starting to run around, screaming and yelling ang going to play basketball except Frances and Reba who started talking about something secret. Hannibal guessed that was part of being married: you got to have secrets with each other. He couldn’t remember his  father and Bedelia having secrets with just each other, but that was the point of secrets after all.

“What would you like to do, Will?” Hannibal asked. Their beloved swings were covered in snow, and so now they were left with nothing to occupy their time. They only had a few minutes left, and even though Mason wasn’t playing kickball because he was mad he couldn’t come to the wedding, Hannibal didn’t much feel like it. He would rather hear more about Will’s grandma or whether Winston had been up to anything. Or talk to Will about his Uncle Robert or watching his first football game.

“How about we walk around?” Will said, and Hannibal frowned. Will seemed nervous. He nodded, walking around the outer circle of the gym where the fifth graders played basketball. Hannibal thought about basketball, he had never played even though his daddy said he had the legs for it, whatever that meant. He thought his legs worked like everyone else’s, and at the pep rally earlier in the year, he had looked at all the basketball players legs. Knees and shins and feet as far as he could tell. Maybe he was just missing the point. He had played T-ball one summer, but that hadn’t been the most fun. No one seemed to have special legs for that either. Maybe he would play basketball when he got to be in fifth grade.

“Hey,” Will said, and Hannibal could feel the nervousness. He wanted to relax him, to tell him whatever it was, it would be okay. But words were lost in the worry. What was wrong with Will? Did something happy to Winston? To his daddy? “We’ve been best friends for a while now, right?” He said shyly.

Hannibal nodded. It had been a while. A great while. All the way since Halloween. That was practically years! “I really like you, Hannibal, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. Even if you get sad sometimes. I understand that, I get sad sometimes, too. But,” Will stuttered, his face redder than Hannibal had ever seen. “You make it easier to be happy here at school. You aren’t mean like the other kids. You let me swing. You even almost beat up Mason cause he was mean to me!” Will paused and pushed his glasses back up his nose, not meeting Hannibal’s eyes.

“You’re really smart and you’ve been over to my house.” Will started counting off on his fingers, as if there were lots of things he wanted to list. “You met Winston. And you like my daddy. And you like the same books like I do.” He pushed his glasses back again. “You’re the bestest best friend I’ve had!” Will said quietly, almost like he was going to cry. Hannibal nearly felt like it. But he wasn’t sad. They were good tears, maybe like the ones Bedelia sometimes cried when he told her about his day.

“So, I talked to my daddy about how to ask you, because I didn’t want to do it wrong.” He said, and stopped, looking at him, rustling around in the pocket of his little jeans, moving past his library card until he felt the candy. “I thought that since Reba and Frances were best friends and they got married, that we should do it, too.” And Hannibal’s eyes widened as Will pulled out a Ring Pop, in his favorite color of purple and held it out to him.

He stared at it for a long moment, words tangled up in his throat, fighting to get out. He wanted to speak, wanted to say something, but couldn’t. So instead, he looked up at Will and put his arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

“Is that Hannibal for yes?” Will asked, hugging him back, and Hannibal could hear the nervousness still there.

Hannibal nodded, knowing that they really were happy tears. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Thanks for reading and reviewing and kudosing and the like! You all are always awesome!  
> This chapter was a lot of fun to write and our little fellas are always growing! As always, I hope you enjoy it! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

“I’m bee truthed.” Bedelia looked up at him like he was crazy, stilling the bite of chicken halfway to her mouth. Chiyoh turned a serious gaze on him, her own spoonful of pilaf set back on the plate. Hannibal had listened patiently to her and Bedelia talk about what days Chiyoh needed off while Hannibal would be home from school for Christmas, and had heard Chiyoh talk about her family for the first time in a long time. Hannibal knew Chiyoh wasn’t married, and she didn’t have any children or pets, but she did have a niece that Hannibal had seen lots of pictures of and that Chiyoh had told him stories about when he was feeling extra sad about Mischa. He had felt bad for a second, that he hadn’t asked about her in so long, but Chiyoh didn’t seem to mind, and he was happy Chiyoh would get a break, even though Hannibal was sure that she and Bedelia was best friends.

“What do you mean, Hannibal?” Chiyoh asked, “What is bee truthed?” She looked at Bedelia who shrugged slightly, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head slightly to the side. Hannibal frowned, trying to think hard. He had learned that word from the dictionary: it had said what it meant, but he couldn’t remember it exactly and didn’t want to mislead them.

“Will and I are bee truthed.” He tried again, his voice quivering slightly when they still seem confused. He reached into the inside of his jacket pocket, feeling for the Ring Pop. He didn’t like the candy and Will agreed that it was okay to give it to Jimmy and Brian who had shared it and both ended up with bright green lips and tongues by pick-up time. He held it up for them to see, putting it on his finger to emphasize his point.

Bedelia coughed, choking a little bit on her chicken for a moment. Hannibal frowned, ready to climb down and help her if she needed it.

“You are betrothed.” Chiyoh said, taking her bite of pilaf. Hannibal felt his face grow red: he had been saying it wrong this whole time! But he nodded in agreement, still worried about Bedelia.

“You hadn’t mentioned getting married, Hannibal.” Bedelia said, and Hannibal tried to listen for her being mad or upset or angry, but he couldn’t hear anything but pure surprise there.

“Will asked me today.” He said back quietly. “The wedding is on Thursday since everyone is wearing matching red clothes.” He took another bite so they wouldn’t ask him more questions, and Bedelia just blinked at him, an almost smile on her face. She didn’t look angry, she looked…amused. Hannibal frowned around his chicken.

“Is there anything you require for the ceremony?” Chiyoh asked suddenly, looking at him. “Will there be a reception?” He listened for any sign of sarcasm, but he had never heard any kind of teasing like that from Chiyoh, and now was no exception. She seemed perfectly serious, and he nodded. “If you will make me a list, I am going to the store tomorrow, I will be happy to pick the things up for you.”

Hannibal nodded happily, thinking about things. Will had said he and his daddy were going to make brownies, and they had already asked Franklyn to officiate since he had done a very okay job at Frances and Reba’s ceremony. Maybe he and Chiyoh could make something for the whole class to share! Even Mason Verger…maybe it was nice to incite him since he didn’t have that many friends. Beverly had offered to see if her dads could get rings for them, since they were all out of Ring Pops, and Jimmy had suggested they make invitations since that’s what his older sister had done. There was so much to do, and only two days! He ate quickly, but politely, waiting on Bedelia to excuse him before he walked out of the kitchen and ran all the way up the stairs to get things ready.

“Here, Mr. Crawford.” Will could barely see over the desk, so he had to slide Mr. Crawford’s invitation as carefully as he could across the flat top of the desk. Hannibal was busy handing them out to everyone in class where Bedelia had gotten them printed at Staples. Hannibal had done all the writing and lettering and had even drawn them a little picture to give out.

“Thank you, Will.” Mr. Crawford seemed slightly confused, but impressed by the invitation.

“You’re welcome.” He said back. “I’m bringing brownies and Hannibal said Chiyoh is going to bring finger sandwiches.” Mr. Crawford raised his eyebrows and nodded at him.

“Well,” He finally said, “Thank you for the invitation. I’m excited to see where this goes.”

 

 

“Here you go, bud, one pan of fresh brownies.” His daddy lifted out the pan, using one of his old sweatshirts as a pot holder since Winston ate the actual pot holder when he and Will were just babies at the old house. “I’ll put them in a box later tonight, okay?”

“Thanks, daddy!” Will said from the table, kicking his feet. His dad looked up at him , and his eyes widened.

“You trying a new moisturizer there, Will?” Will giggled, he had been enjoying the spoils of his daddy making brownies but he may have spread batter all over his face in his attempt to make sure none remained on the bowl. His daddy grabbed a paper towel. “You might need another bath…” he teased, wetting down a towel to wipe at Will’s face.

“No daddy, that would be a waste of good soap!” He protested, doing his best to hold still even thought the towel was cold.

“It’s official, you’ve been spending too much time around Grandma.” But he swooped Will out of his chair, swinging him around in his arms in a big loop before he let him down. Will laughed, even though Winston always got a little scared when his daddy did that and made extra sure to lick Will and make sure he was okay when he was finally down on the ground. “Go put on your pajamas and we’ll get ready for bed, okay?”

“Okay, daddy!” Will said, and took off running, Winston in tow. Sitting on his chair in his room, he had his clothes laid out for the next day. His red flannel, his nicest jeans, and his church shoes that he had even tried to wash a little to make sure they were extra clean. His daddy had offered him one of his ties, but Will didn’t think he should wear a tie unless he had on a suit, and he would leave that to Hannibal. He had borrowed a pair of his daddy’s nice black socks which came all the way up to his knees because his white ones were too bright with his shoes.

He pulled on his pajama shirt, the one with the doggies on it. “I’m getting married tomorrow, Winston.” He said, and Winston blinked up at him, definitely listening carefully. “Have you ever been married?” To his knowledge, Winston had not been married. Or, if he had, Will had not been invited. Winston wasn’t a rude dog, so he didn’t think that was the case. They were about the same age, so maybe it was just where Will was getting married so young. Winston would find his soul-dog someday, Will was certain.

“You remember Hannibal, Winston?” The dog perked up his ears at the mention of Hannibal, he did in fact, seem to remember. “It’s him.” Will pulled the matching pajama pants on, climbing into bed, careful not to step on Winston’s paw or tail that always seemed to be right where he needed to step. “We’re pretty excited.”

Winston didn’t respond except for with a cold nose to his skin, pushing up against him to worm his way into the bed to go to sleep. Will petted him, waiting patiently on his daddy, even though he was pretty sure he was so excited that he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Finally, his daddy came in, having finished washing all the dishes and putting away the brownies and changing Winston’s water that he liked to splash all over the kitchen when no one was looking or his daddy was cooking instead of taking him for a walk.

“Daddy,” Will said. “Can I make a story request?” His daddy raised his eyebrows and smiled down at him, taking his usual set next to the bed.

“Alright,” he said, drawling so much like Grandma that Will had to suppress a tiny laugh. “What would you like to hear?”

“How did we get Winston?” Will asked, and Winston looked up at the mention of his name before closing his eyes again.

“Well,” His daddy said, pressing his hands down his legs. “You were born in January, and it was the coldest I’ve ever seen Chinquapin. We actually had snow to the point that your Grandma took real pictures to put on the Christmas card she sends out instead of just the ones they sell at the store.

We were staying with her at the time, me and you, before we got the old trailer out by your preschool.” Will nodded his head. He had liked the trailer, not as much as he liked their house now, but he could remember playing out in the yard in the summer and watching the Spanish moss blow out of the trees into big piles he could jump in. “Well, I was working out at the boat yard and Grandma was taking care of you while I was gone. I came home, well after dark that night. It was snowing a bit, flurrying at least, to make the drive harder than usual. I couldn’t see anyone else on the road, but it took me so long to get back, so it wasn’t really a surprise.

I’ll be honest with you.” He looked down at Will with a soft smile. “Those were some hard days. I didn’t know a lot about helping to raise you, it was hard to find work on the docks with the cold weather. If it hadn’t been for Grandma having the extra room for us to stay in, I don’t know what we would have done.” Will nodded, wide-eyed. He hadn’t known. He reached out to pat his daddy’s hand like his daddy always did when Will was upset.

“So I was coming home, and you know how Grandma’s house is, her driveway is about as long as the road. Well, there was ice in the bottom part, so I had to park out towards the end. I was walking and smoking and thinking to myself; I was tired and hungry and worried and I wasn’t paying attention too well to what was going on around me.

I had just pulled out a cigarette to smoke before I went in, since I tried not to smoke in the house with you in there, and I heard this little noise. To tell you the truth, I thought it was you for half a second,” He ran a hand over Will’s curls with a wink. “But I look down and I saw this fluffy little ball trying to crawl down the driveway on legs shorter than my big toe.

To tell you the truth, I just stared at it for a minute. I never lit my cigarette, and I just watched this fluffy little dog climb over every pile of rocks like that’s what he was born to do, trying to make his way down to the house.

Now, I had no intention of getting a dog. I had you to keep happy and healthy and safe, it was a bad time for us to get a pet. But I couldn’t leave him out there, getting snow in his fur and freezing in the driveway. So I picked him up and help him up to my jacket like a football.”

Will smiled, trying to imagine baby Winston as he had been that night. Fluffy and cute and cold and happy to meet his daddy. “I came in the house, holding a puppy and an unlit cigarette to find your Grandma holding you in the living room, trying to sing and get you to go to sleep. You’d been up crying for almost two hours, which was rare because you were always such a quiet baby. But here I was, holding this puppy.

And you looked at him, with those big blue eyes that you have right now, and then you looked right at that puppy and your crying stopped. You reached for him, and squirmed as much as you could for such a tiny little baby, and I swear to you he did the same. He licked your fingers and you smiled and smiled. Your Grandma was so relieved to finally have you calmed down. She put you in your crib and you finally went to sleep, and here I was with this puppy.

Now, like I said, this wasn’t a good time for me to be getting a pet. So I had planned the next morning to take him down to the no-kill shelter one parish over because I wasn’t about to let him go back out in the cold. I got him a little dish of water, some leftover chicken, and set him up a blanket on the floor where he fell asleep.

I woke up late the next morning. Your Grandma knew I was tired and let me sleep. She was knitting you a baby carrier cover so I could take you outside, and had you sitting in your carrier on the floor by the couch, listening to Crosby, Stills, and Nash on her old radio, and there was that little puppy, curled up right where you had wrapped your hand around his ear, sleeping right next to you like nothing was wrong and he had always done that.

Well, I promised Grandma I would take him to the shelter on Monday, but by Sunday evening, you and him would both cry if he wasn’t sleeping in your room, and by Monday, Grandma had named him Winston after the old Chinquapin sheriff Winston Ives and there was no way Winston was going anywhere.” Will felt his eyes getting heavy, smiling at the story, trying to picture himself as a baby with little baby Winston just the same.

“He’s a great dog, now,” His daddy added, running his hands over Winston’s head, careful not to rub his calluses over the long hairs. “I wouldn’t trade him for anything, he’s been there through it all, I reckon.”

He looked down at Will, pulling up his blanket a little more to cover his arms. “Get you some sleep, bud, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.” He leaned over, turning off the lamp and pressed a kiss to Will’s forehead. His face was scratchy, but never felt bad, and Will curled on his side, ready for a good, long nap.

“I love you, daddy,” He said softly, almost asleep. “Thank you for rescuing Winston.”

“I love you too, Willy.” He said, and the door closed softly as Will’s mind faded into happy dreams about snow and puppies and his birthday and his Grandma.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Sorry for the delay, I've been traveling again the last few days for my research and have had time to write or upload anything! I hope this chapter makes up for it! :) As always, I hope you enjoy, please R and R, let me know what you think!

“Do you promise to always be best friends, to sit with each other at lunch, to never hit each other, to never be mean to each other, to share with each other, and to always be best friends?” Hannibal thought that it seemed that Franklyn had added quite a bit to the vows from Frances’ and Reba’s wedding, but he didn’t question it. He was too nervous. He could feel his own face being red from being in front of everyone and hoped his palms were sweating against Will’s who was holding them both steady.

Hannibal couldn’t help but smile a little, looking at Will. He was in a dark red flannel shirt, one that Hannibal was almost sure Will’s daddy also had. He was wearing dark jeans and even little loafers that didn’t look all that different from Hannibal’s own shoes. He himself had worked with Chiyoh to pick out a dark jacket with black pants and a black vest and white shirt and black loafers that would match his clothes. The rest of their class, Mr. Crawford included, were all wearing red shirts and sweaters and tops and coats. He spared them a glance while Franklyn smiled at Tobias, who rolled his eyes like he always did, even though Hannibal was almost certain he was glad they were friends; Jimmy and Brian had matching Elmo jackets, Alana was wearing a beautiful Christmas sweater and Beverly was wearing one with a repeated print of snowman linked at the arms. Even Mr. Crawford was wearing a sweater with a big reindeer on the front.

“Will, if you do, then say I do. And put the ring on Hannibal’s finger.” Beverly’s dads had come through, and they each had little wire rings with their birthstones. A little red garnet for Will, a little purple Amethyst for Hannibal. They were so pretty; Hannibal loved them! The whole class clapped, except for maybe Mason, but Hannibal didn’t bother to look. He could eat dirt for all Hannibal cared, even though he had invited him.

“I do.” Will said, shyly since they were in front of everyone, and it took him a second, but he pushed the little wire ring and stone down Hannibal’s finger. Hannibal stared at it for a second, feeling his heart swell up in his chest.

“Hannibal, if you do, then say I do. And put the ring on Will’s finger.”

“I do.” He had practiced, peeking up at his ceiling after Chiyoh had tucked him into bed the night before, saying those words. He wanted it to be perfect, to be able to do it right. Will beamed at him as he pushed the little garnet down his finger until it sat perfectly. Another round of clapping.

“Then by all the power I have, I now pronounce your husband and husband. You can kiss if you want to.” Franklyn said nodding at them. Hannibal felt his blush start, matching Will’s. But he steeled his nerves after only a second and leaned in, pressing a kiss right against the corner of Will’s mouth to the loud cheers and woops of the people behind them.

 

“How come there called finger sandwiches?” Brian asked, chewing one of his, “They don’t taste like fingers.”

“I wish you weren’t so dumb sometimes, Brian.” Beverly rolled her eyes, eating her own ham salad sandwich. “It’s because their small and grown-ups only need two fingers to eat them.”

“I don’t think its proper to call someone dumb at a wedding, Beverly.” Jimmy whispered, starting a whole other argument between the three. Will just smiled and listened to them, happily chewing on whatever the finger sandwiches were made out of. Chiyoh had done a great job, and everyone seemed to be really liking them!

Mr. Crawford had told them to group up, and naturally the A-Team was sticking together. It had been an adventurous day already: Will couldn’t believe he was actually married! He kept smiling over at Hannibal, who sat next to him very much enjoying one of the brownies Will had brought in: he couldn’t imagine a better wedding than what they had! Mr. Crawford had gotten the whole class together at the end to take their picture, with Will and Hannibal still holding hands at the front before Mrs. Komeda had taken individual pictures at library time. They were getting their soldiers’ names in just a few minutes so they could write them letters about themselves, and out in the pictures of themselves, and send them boxes with toothpaste and candy and gum and holiday stuff. Mr. Crawford had said he and Hannibal and Frances and Reba should talk all about their recent weddings: Will thought that was a great idea, he loved to talk about Hannibal, and now a soldier would know how great he was! Soldiers were strong, and powerful and nice, and if Hannibal knew one, maybe they could keep him safe even when Bedelia and Chiyoh and Will’s daddy couldn’t.

 

“What’s this word, Tobias?” He heard Franklyn say loudly and looked over to where Franklyn and Tobias and Margot and Alana and Frances and Reba were sitting, Mr. Crawford having just given them their people. Will tried to draw faster on the picture he was working on between bites of wedding sandwich: he was trying to draw Santa. He thought that maybe if he sent a picture of Santa to his soldier, then Santa would be sure to stop and see him as well, maybe even bring him a present! Hannibal was drawing too, the very tip of his tongue sticking out of his lips because he was concentrating so hard. Will smiled at that, Hannibal was so funny sometimes, and he didn’t even know it. He could admire his dedication, too, Hannibal’s drawings were always beautiful!

“Private.” He heard Tobias answer, in his usual exasperated tone.

“But if its Private, how am I going to write them a letter?” Franklyn cried, sounding very dismayed, as if he were going to start sobbing.

“Private is a rank in the army, Franklyn, you can write them a letter.” He heard Alana say quickly. Will was glad Alana was so smart, she had probably fielded a large number of breakdowns courtesy of Franklyn. Will thought Hannibal was kind of the same way: when he was talking, he always made Will feel better about things. It was like he always knew just the right thing to say.

“Here you go, Will. Hannibal. Beverly. Brian. Jimmy.” Mr. Crawford handed them all papers with the names and a little information about their people. He also gave them their pictures, and Will stared for a second at the little curly-haired him with glasses looking back at him. They had another picture, too, the one right after their wedding. “I also made copies for your parents that you can get at pick-up time.”

“Mr. Crawford,” Hannibal said softly, and Mr. Crawford smiled at him. “Can I get an extra copy for my daddy? He doesn’t live with us.”

“Of course!” Mr. Crawford said, putting a hand on his shoulder with a little pat before he walked away. Hannibal smiled, reading over his information.

“Mr. Crawford always gives me two copies.” Beverly said, “One for my moms and one for my dads; he’s super nice about it.” She reassured Hannibal, which just made him smile a little bigger, so he covered his mouth.

“How come you cover your mouth, Hannibal?” Jimmy asked, and Hannibal stared at him, a little afraid. But Jimmy stood his ground. “Sorry,” He said after a second. “Just you don’t have to cover it though, if you don’t want.”

And Will watched as Hannibal lowered his hand, smiling again, his teeth showing. Beverly just looked at him before she went back to coloring her own pictures, Jimmy nodded a little, but Brian was impressed. “Woah!” He said, “Your teeth are awesome!” With no meanness in his words.

Will watched Hannibal visibly get happier. Today had been the best day. His letter would say as much.

 

 

Deer Corporal Mikkelsen,  
My name is Will Graham like the cracker. I say that cause that’s how my daddy, whose name is Kit Graham like the cracker, taught me to remember it. I also have a Grandma but I just call her grandma, no crackers involved, and a doggy whose name is Winston. He is a very good dog and really likes to eat salmon which is good because it’s my daddy’s favorite thing to cook.

My teacher Mr. Crawford said for us to say a little about ourselves. I have curly hair and I wear glasses. I know how to read and wrote most of this letter all by myself! I like dogs and books and my friends, and the A-Team. Mostly though, I like my best friend, his name is Hannibal.

Me and him just got married today! I don’t know if you’ll get this letter the same day I write it, but I hope you do cause I don’t remember the date except that its Thursday. We got married cause we’re best friends and everyone was wearing red today. My daddy made brownies from Grandma’s recipe (she’s very smart) and Hannibal brought in sandwiches. There is a picture of our wedding in the box with your stuff. We are the two in the front. I am the one with the curly hair. Hannibal’s hair is straight, like his mommy Bedelia’s. He also likes to wear suits, I don’t own a suit. Its probably the easiest way to tell us apart.

Do you have a best friend? Are you married? If you do, I hope they are like Hannibal. He is nice and not too loud and always helps me feel better and we swing everyday Mr. Crawford says it’s not too cold outside! My friend Beverly says it’s never too cold for recess, but Mr. Crawford disagrees with her. My daddy says Mr. Crawford is right, but I am trying to support Beverly cause she is awesome.

Anyway, I hope you have an amazing holiday (whatever you celebrate) over there! You seem like a really nice person from what this paper said, and I hope you gets lots of letters. I’ll write when I hear back from you. I also hope you like the drawing of Santa, I was trying to get him to stop by your camp. You’ll have to let me know how it went when you have time.

Love,  
William “Will” Graham

 

 

Hannibal woke up, feeling the magic of Fridays. He checked his hand to make sure his ring was still there, the little Amethyst glittering back at him before he climbed down to ball up the sheets and blanket and pillowcase because it was Friday and Chiyoh washed them every other Friday while Bedelia was at work. He carried them to the bathroom, hearing more noise than usual from downstairs, but he ignored it in favor of doing his best to make things easy for Chiyoh.

He got himself dressed, in his favorite dark green plaid pants and jacket, checking just one more time that he had his ring on before his growling tummy was too much to ignore and breakfast smelled too good.

“Good morning, Hannibal.” He looked up at Bedelia, and froze. She was smiling, almost nervous-looking. She also wasn’t fully dressed, still in her bathrobe, holding coffee while Chiyoh must have been cooking the kitchen.

“I heard you got married yesterday, Junior.” His father sat next to her, wearing his bathrobe and pajama pants, holding a cup of coffee between his hands. “Sorry I couldn’t make it.” His father smiled at him with a little wink.

He climbed into his chair, very confused by all of this. This was very early for someone to be visiting…and his father, no less. He didn’t have to wait long before Chiyoh appeared with porridge a fruit, normally a perfectly good breakfast, but now made him feel kind of sick as he looked at it. He looked up at her, and relief came over him. She didn’t seem confused, but at least she seemed slightly upset. She took an extra second to press against his hand with her own, reassuring him enough to make it okay.

He stared down at his bowl, ignoring what he knew were his father’s attempts to get him to look at him. Why was he here? He was going to mail him that picture, he didn’t have to come here to talk about that. Why was he here so early? Why did he have on the pajama pants he used to wear all the time? Why was Bedelia in her bathrobe?

“Well,” His father finally said, almost as if announcing it. “I’d better be going.” He stood, and Hannibal finally looked at him. “I’ll see you later, Hannibal.” He said, smiling at him before he turned to Bedelia. “I’ll see you later, too.”

And Hannibal watched, so very confused, as his father leaned down and pressed a kiss to Bedelia’s temple like he used to before they would both leave for work. And then it was only the two of them in the dining room, looking at each other. Hannibal unbelieving and Bedelia…almost looking like she wanted to apologize to him.

His porridge tasted like sand. He checked for his ring a third time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to back chapters? What the heck? Nah, I just got in the swing of writing this and was feeling it! As always, I hope you all enjoy, please R and R, let me know what you think!

“Hey, Will, can we talk for a little bit?” Will stopped writing his letter to Santa and looked up at his daddy, who didn’t look upset or anything. He swallowed: the conversation that they had to move away from Louisiana had started that exact same way.

“Okay,” He said, climbing down from his seat at the table. “But let’s go to the couch first. And get ice cream.” His daddy laughed, a big, loud laugh, patting him before he walked over to the freezer to get him an ice cream on a stick. Will loved the ice cream, but he really loved the stick. Sometimes, he would press his tongue down with it when there was still a little chocolate left on it and pretend he was a doctor. Even though he was starting to think he didn’t want to be a doctor when he grew up. The more Beverly told him about being a CSI, the better that sounded. Or maybe a teacher like Mr. Crawford, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with meanies like Mason Verger and it might be too much of a risk.

He climbed up on the couch, careful to hold his ice cream out of reach of Winston who eyed it wishfully, and situated himself to look over at his daddy who sat at the other end. He seemed like he was thinking about something serious, and Will was glad they had moved to the couch. He didn’t want to be kicking his feet during a serious conversation.

“What’s wrong, daddy?” He asked, trying his best to avoid smearing chocolate around his lips. From his daddy’s smirk, it was not going as well as he hoped.

“Nothings wrong, bud, I just need to talk to you about something.” Will nodded, ready to listen. Clearly, this was very important.

“Well, you know how sometimes grown-ups like to spend time together?” Will thought about it, and nodded. Like Grandma and Grandpa Billy. Or Mr. and Principal Crawford.

“Well, for the last couple of weeks, I’ve been spending a little bit of time with a woman named Kathy.”

“Kathy with a K or with a C?” Will asked, knowing that one of Beverly’s moms was adamant that her name be spelled with a C.

“With a K,” His daddy laughed a little. “She would appreciate you asking, I’m sure.” Will smiled around the end of his ice cream, sneaking a big bite of the chocolate. “Well, she came into the shop a couple of weeks ago to have her car fixed, and she and I have gotten lunch together a couple of times recently.”

“Okay,” said Will, not sure why his daddy thought this was so serious. He had lunch with the A-Team everyday. He was glad his daddy had someone to eat lunch with!

“Well, I was thinking of inviting her over here for dinner one night this week.” He looked at Will, who said nothing because of his ice cream. “I wanted to ask you first if that would be okay. I know it’s just been us for a while, and after the bad experience we had with Caroline back home, I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

Will thought about things for a minute. He remembered Caroline. She had been not very nice at all, kind of like Mason, and had largely ignored Will. Will was glad his daddy didn’t see her anymore, Will had tried to talk to her but she had always pretty much yelled at him and blamed things on him. She had only come over twice before his daddy had stopped spending time with her. It had not been fun at all.

“You need friends, daddy.” He said. “Maybe you can have a sleepover like me and Hannibal!” He said, happily, ignoring his daddy’s snort of laughter.

“But it’s okay with you if she comes over?” His daddy asked again, and Will could tell he was still the tiniest bit nervous. “I need you to tell me if you have any concerns when she’s over here, okay?”

Will was officially down to the ice cream stick, sucking a little on it to make sure he got all of the chocolate out. “Okay, daddy,” He said, “Are you two dating?”

His daddy looked mildly surprised. “Maybe.” He said, “We’ll see how things go.”

“That’s exciting,” said Will, giving his stick one more good suck. “I better go wash my face.” He said, and climbed down off the couch, able to feel the relief coming from his daddy.

 

 

“Would you like to go to the movie theater, Hannibal?” Chiyoh said, standing a little ways from him as he sat, looking out the window. “There are many movies that children your age enjoy.”

He looked over at her, letting out a little sigh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to the movies, even though he hadn’t been since he and Mischa had gone with Chiyoh to an old showing of Wizard of Oz at the local theatre, he was just still confused. He had gone to school and hadn’t talked to Will about it, even though he had wanted to. He wasn’t even sure what to say to him, so he had just stayed quiet and tried to have a good day.

“Get your hat, it is too cold to be outside without one.” Chiyoh was right of course, and Hannibal climbed down, not having the strength in him to argue. He went and found his favorite hat, the one with the flaps. His Grandma had said that he hat reminded her of Lithuania, and Hannibal thought that was maybe why his father had gotten it for him a while back, but he wasn’t sure now. Mostly he liked it because it was warm and because he knew that Will liked it, even though Will always wore a beanie like his daddy.

He also got his leather gloves, considering things for a moment before turning his ring around to the center of his hand so the stone wouldn’t get caught on the leather before he went back out to Chiyoh who was waiting for him. He sat quietly in the back of the car on the way to the theater, watching the snow swirl by in little flakes. He wondered what Will and Beverly and Franklyn and Jimmy and Alana and Brian and Mr. Crawford were doing. Probably something fun in the snow. Maybe they were going to the movies, too.

Chiyoh turned down the music and he frowned a little. He loved the sounds of the orchestra, though he wished there was more harpsichord than their seemed to be.

“You are upset, Hannibal.” At least Chiyoh didn’t ask him that. Most everyone else always asked whether he was okay, despite the fact that he thought it was usually pretty obvious that he wasn’t. “About your father.”

“Why was he here?” Hannibal asked softly, and Chiyoh turned the music off completely.

“This is truly a conversation for you and your mother, Hannibal. But I can answer as best I can for what is appropriate.”

“Did he stay the night?” Hannibal said, knowing that Chiyoh probably wouldn’t answer. He knew, though he knew that Bedelia didn’t know that he did, that there had been a couple of other men, none of whom Hannibal liked, who had been in Bedelia’s room right after the divorce. But none of them had ever been there for breakfast. He guessed that adult sleepovers did not work the same as kindergarten ones.

“Yes.” She surprised him. “He arrived after you went to sleep.” Hannibal wondered if that was really true. He had almost been too excited to sleep and it felt to him that he had been awake forever the night before, long after he was supposed to have closed his eyes. He had been too happy to let it go.

“Are they going to be together?” He tried to picture it. But he couldn’t picture Bedelia and his father happy without Mischa there, too. They couldn’t be happy with just him. At least, he didn’t think so.

“That is something to talk to your mother about.” Chiyoh pulled into the parking lot of the movies, not too busy for a Saturday matinee, but she sat still for a moment as if debating what to say to him next.

“Bedelia doesn’t like to talk to me.” Hannibal said, and couldn’t make himself say it above a whisper. “It makes her sad.”

“That is not true, Hannibal.” Chiyoh answered, but she didn’t look at him. At least she didn’t sound angry. “Come on, let’s go get some popcorn, I know that you like it. What is the candy you enjoy? Whoppers?”

 

 

Hannibal came out of the movie in a much better mood than he had gone in. Chiyoh had gotten him his own snackbox with popcorn and water and candy. The man behind the counter had been so surprised that Hannibal liked Whoppers that he had given them the box for free, and the movie, something about a city populated entirely by animals, was a lot of fun. He liked the bunny the best, and hoped she got to enjoy being a police officer after they had stopped filming the movie.

But Bedelia was still in his mind. Moreso, his father was, too. He could try and talk to Bedelia, but he didn’t think she would want to talk too much to him after he hadn’t said anything to her at breakfast. He instead had devised a master plan that he thought even Beverly might be proud of.

“You seemed to enjoy the feature, Hannibal.”

“Yes.” He said, buckling up as Chiyoh handed him the bucket of popcorn they had gotten for Bedelia. It was one of her favorite snacks, even if she didn’t come to the movies all that often. He held it tight as they pulled out of the parking lot in the growing slush. “Chiyoh,” He said, and she looked back at him. “Do you think Will could come over and spend the night Wednesday? Since we don’t have school on Thursday.”

It was true, Thursday was the sing-a-long where they would be singing the terrible rendition of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer that Mr. Crawford was forcing them to learn and perform. He was Blitzen, but so were three other people. It made no sense with the song, which made very little sense as it was. After that though, they would not have anymore school until after New Years’ Day, and it seemed like Mr. Crawford was very happy for the break, although Hannibal was a little worried about not seeing Will and the others for so long.

“I will speak with your mother, Hannibal. I think that may be a good idea after all.” Hannibal smiled, he was happy Will was coming over of course. It would be their first sleepover as a married couple! But he was happy for another reason: he needed Will’s support for his plan. And, besides, he wanted him to meet his Selene.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Sorry for the later updates, this chapter is a bit longer than usual! You can also check out my new story called Strange Magic! It's quite a bit darker, but cest la vie. As always, I hope you enjoy, please R and R, let me know what you think!

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the Sing-A-Long, bud, I wanted to make sure I had Christmas Eve off to spend with you and Grandma.”

“That’s okay, daddy!” Will said as he climbed into the backseat, his reindeer antlers hitting the roof. “We didn’t sound so good, anyway. Mostly it was Alana and Franklyn who could sing pretty; Frances didn’t even sing at all!” Frances was a very quiet boy, not that Will minded, but it was true that even though he was one of three Vixens in the play, he had simply stood there and swayed with the rest of them. Hannibal had hardly sung either, but Will knew that was just because he was extra quiet. He was going to Hannibal’s house tonight, he was so excited! But first, he and his daddy were making dinner for Kathy.

His daddy laughed, and turned to look at him. “Either way, Mr. Crawford gave me a DVD copy, so we can watch it at home. Dr. du Maurier said you all did an excellent job.” Will had been surprised to see Hannibal’s mommy there, but she had sat by herself in the front row and watched the whole time, even clapping when they had sung. And then, she had taken Hannibal home in her black car instead of Chiyoh’s usual one. She had also taken Will’s sleepover bag with her, which Will was very happy about since that meant he didn’t have to carry it out in the snow with all of the little holiday bags they had been given by Mr. Crawford. His had an orange and a slinkie and little stuffed dog that would fit on a keychain, with a special note from Mr. Crawford on the bag, too about what a great year it had been so far. Will thought it had been a very great day, it was certainly better than preschool Christmas.

“Does Kathy like salmon and eggs?” He asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. His daddy snorted in the front seat, turning down the old Eagles CD they kept since the radio was broken.

“I don’t know, bud.” He said. “Probably not as much as we do. That’s why I called Grandma and got her recipe for braised chicken and red rice and beans.” Will loved red rice and beans, it was a relief to find out that Kathy did as well.

“That’s good.” Will said. “I like salmon and eggs, but Grandma always said that was an acquired taste.” Will wasn’t sure what that meant, but his daddy laughed again as they pulled into the neighborhood. Will liked to look and the houses and count how many had lights. Mr. Crawford had told the class to practice math whenever the opportunity arose, and Will was taking full advantage. So far, his number had been growing almost daily.

“You have got to stop talking to Grandma so much.” His daddy said as they pulled in, but Will giggled because he knew his daddy didn’t mean it.

 

“So, Will, what do you like to do?” Thus far, Kathy was a very nice lady. She had made sure to include Will in conversation, which Will thought was for the best since his daddy was being very shy. Even shyer than usual, and his daddy was pretty quiet except for when he got mad at people like Hannibal’s daddy and the man at Kroger who tried to take an old lady’s purse when she wasn’t watching.

“I like to read.” He said, “And everyday I swing on the swings with my best friend---my husband, Hannibal.” He giggled when he said husband. It was still funny, to think that he was married and only in kindergarten! But he wouldn’t trade Hannibal for anything, or his ring either, which he held up so Kathy could see.

“That’s very exciting!” She said. “I like to read, too.” Will appreciated that Kathy wasn’t talking to him in a baby voice, and that she had glasses like he did, and that she didn’t say anything mean to his daddy, even though the red beans and rice were just a tiny bit burnt.

“What’s your favorite book?” Will said, scooping up some of the chicken which did not taste like Grandma’s, but was pretty good. A nice change from the salmon.

“Probably The Grapes of Wrath.” She said, and he wrinkled his nose. “You’ll probably read it when you’re older, as smart as you are.” Will smiled, blushing a little. Now he understood why his daddy was so shy around Kathy, she was very nice!

“I like books about fish and deer and the woods.” Will said. “Daddy always reads them to me.” Will watched Kathy smile up at his daddy, he teeth showing and everything, and he watched his daddy blush just like Will did.

The rest of dinner continued and the three of them talked, though Will mostly listened. Kathy asked him about Hannibal and the soldier he had mailed his letter to. And he told her about the sets of gifts he had been making for Hannibal since Thanksgiving. She had seemed very impressed!

She even stayed for a little while after dinner, but once Will started to go wash his hands and get ready to go to Hannibal’s house, she started to get her things, too. Will couldn’t help but peek, and to giggle a little when he saw Kathy kiss his daddy at the front door, right on the lips. But it was okay, and his daddy’s big smile and dark blush as he watched her drive away was more than worth it.

 

Hannibal heard Will’s daddy’s car pull in and was off the couch in less than a second. Bedelia still beat him to it, since she was so much taller. “Dr. du Maurier. Hannibal.” Will’s daddy said as the door opened, hands on Will’s shoulders.

“Mr. Graham.” She said, and looked down at Will who was peeking around her to smile at Hannibal. Hannibal didn’t say anything, but he did a little wave that earned him a wink from the man. “We’re excited to have Will over.”

“Let me know if you need anything for him.” Will’s daddy said before he kneeled down. “Have a good time, Bud, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” Hannibal watched him lean in real close to Will’s ear, and ask him a question because Will nodded and lifted the plastic bag on his arm. Then his daddy kissed the top of his head and, with a final wave to Will, drove off back down the road.

“I know you’ve already eaten dinner, Will, but there are snacks in the kitchen and I thought the three of us might make some cookies later.”

“Thank you!” Will said, falling into step beside Hannibal, behind Bedelia. “Is Chiyoh coming, too?”

“She actually has the night off, so it will just be the three of us.” Hannibal missed Chiyoh, although that meant Bedelia had cooked her baked ziti, which he loved and made him wish Bedelia cooked more, even if getting sauce on her blouse had made her extra grumpy. Hannibal startled, but didn’t duck away when she ran her hands over his forehead and through his hair. “You two have fun.”

He frowned, almost feeling bad for his secret plan.

 

“Are we going up to your room?” Bedelia split off from them at the living room and Hannibal nodded, almost wanting to pull Will up the stairs he was so excited. They needed secrecy. Finally they made it, and Will put his backpack down with his other things, still holding his plastic bag. “Are you okay, Hannibal?” He asked, as if noticing his friend’s strange behavior.

“Yes.” He said, and sat down on the rug where Will sat criss-cross applesauce next to him. “I need answers.”

“Answers about what? We don’t have class again until after New Years!” Will exclaimed, looking at Hannibal like he was crazy.

“Something happened the other day.” He squirmed in his seat. “When I cam down to eat breakfast, my father was here. He said hi to me and was wearing pajamas and he kissed Bedelia and everything! I wanted to know what was going on.” He whispered.

“Did you ask Bedelia?”Will whispered back, looking back at Hannibal’s door, even though it was mostly closed.

“No.” Hannibal shook his head, and Will could feel a little sadness coming from him. “But I know who to talk to.” He reached back behind the stuffed animal, pulling out the telephone he had snuck in here when Bedelia was talking to the neighbor woman earlier about using the driveway during her family reunion over the weekend. He was happy Bedelia had said yes, the neighbor woman was always nice to Hannibal, and usually gave him a little basket of cookies for his birthday in February.

“Are we calling 9-1-1?” Will asked, his eyes wide. Hannibal smiled and shook his head, reaching in his pocket to take out the piece of paper his Selene had put in his suitcase at Thanksgiving. She would know about his father!

“No, we’re calling my grandmother. In Lithuania.” She had gone back with Uncle Robert and the Lady Murasaki, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t call. Ever since he had decided his plan on Saturday, he had watched Bedelia to make sure he knew how to use the phone and how to push the numbers. “I wanted you to meet her, too!” He said happily, and handed the note to Will, who held it up diligently.

He pushed in the call button and all the numbers in slowly, listening to the ringing, his heart pounding. It rang. And rang. And rang again. He started to lose hope until a very sleepy sounding voice answered the phone.

“Bedelia? You are calling so late, is ‘Annibal alright?” It was Selene! He was so excited he couldn’t speak for a moment. “Bedelia? ‘Ello?”

“Selene.” He finally said, in barely more than a whisper.

“My ‘annibal? Is that you?” She said, and he could tell she was excited. She was talking loud, and he knew Wil could hear her because he seemed surprised at her voice. But he smiled. That made him happy. “’Annibal, it is so early in the morning. What do you need? Is something wrong?”

“It’s not morning, Selene,” he said quietly, “Bedelia and I just ate dinner.” He heard her gentle laugh, which Will smiled at and giggled himself.

“Things are a bit different over ‘ere, ‘Annibal.” She said gently. “But I am awake now, and it is nice to ‘ear from you. What do you need?”

“I have a question, Selene.” Hannibal whispered, barely able to talk he was so relieved. “Something happened the other night.”

“What was it?” Hannibal smiled, all of her “s” sounds sounded like “z”. He wished he talked like that.

“I went down for breakfast and my father was here. He was eating and in his pajamas and he kissed Bedelia, too.” The other end of the phone was silent until it was broken by a long sigh.

“Your father is a good man, ‘Annibal, but he does not always make the best decisions. Perhaps ‘e and your mother are growing close again. I do not know.”

“What should we do, Selene?” Hannibal felt a tear well up at the edge of his eye, ready to run down his face.

“We? Who is we?”

“Wills is here, Selene. He’s spending the night.” Hannibal said, and Will smiled nervously over at him.

“Your little “usband?” She exclaimed, and Hannibal giggled, his sadness momentairily forgotten. “Can ‘e ‘ear me?”

“Yes, he’s right here.”

“In that case, the best thing you and Will can do ‘Annibal is to stay together. Lean on each other and you will be okay.” She sighed again. “Talk to your mother if you can. I know things ‘ave been ‘ard, but she loves you, ‘Annibal. She is strong. Stronger than your father.”

Hannibal felt the tear again, remembering how Bedelia had been during the divorce and after Mischa was gone. Only crying when she thought he couldn’t see her. Never saying the angry things about his father that he knew she wanted to.

“I love you, Selene.” He whispered, “You can go back to bed now.”

“I think I will.” She laughed lightly. “I love you too, my ‘Annibal. And tell little Will the same.”

 

After a long night of snacks and phone calls and coloring and laughing and sharing secret smiles because Bedelia didn’t know about their phone call, Will Graham was tired. He wanted to snuggle down into his daddy’s army surplus sleeping bag and nap until the morning when Bedelia had promised them French toast. But he had one more thing to do.

“Hey, Hannibal.” He got his little plastic bag, tucked away with his other things. “I have your Christmas present.” He said, and was so proud of everything he had been working on.

“I have yours, too!” Hannibal said, jumping up excitedly and running to grab a fancily wrapped box. Will’s heart leapt: Hannibal had gotten him something, too!

“Let’s open them at the same time.” Will said importantly, handing Hannibal his bag. “My daddy helped me wrap them all separately.” Hannibal nodded in agreement, trading will the box for the bag.

Will couldn’t help it, he only tore a small corner of Hannibal’s gift before he stopped to watch him open the presents Will had gotten him. First, the pillowcase Grandma had embroidered with Hannibal’s name and the deer. Then the picture Will had drawn and colored himself. Then the little metal figurine that his daddy had helped him make.

“Will,” He whispered, and Will waited, holding his breath. “I love it.” He reached forward and pulled Will into a big hug, his much longer arms wrapping around him tightly. Will couldn’t remember being this happy. Except maybe his wedding. Or when he met Hannibal’s Grandma over the phone. Hannibal loved his presents, all of his work had been worth it! “You did not open yours.” He said finally, letting him go, wiping away what Will knew was a happy tear.

Will tore the rest of his paper, even though it was almost too pretty to do it, and found a picture frame, in it contained a picture of him and Hannibal from their Halloween together that Will’s daddy had taken. He was in his fish costume, and the two of them were turned towards each other, laughing as they left one of the houses.

“Bedelia printed it for me. But I picked out the frame.” Will hugged the picture close to his chest, feeling what he knew would be a note on the back.

“I love it.” Will said, and he did. He even kept it with him as he curled up into his bag to go to sleep, thinking about everything that had happened.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm thinking of doing a follow up to this story after its conclusion of the crew in their last year of high school days, or in their post college era? Any thoughts?
> 
> Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please R and R, let me know what you think! :)

“Are you getting Kathy something for Christmas, daddy?” Will ate a scoop of Cinnamon toast crunch with renewed vigor, watching the snow outside of the dining room window. It was falling thickly, thick enough that his daddy had already turned the car on to melt the ice frozen to the windshield before he went to work. Will was excited, because his daddy said he could go with him, and even help!

“I think so.” His daddy said after a moment, finishing washing his own bowl and drying it. “I’m trying to figure out what to get her.”

“What does she like?” Said Will, finishing his last bite and drinking the milk fast so he could get his coat on. “Does she like dogs?” He tried to ask innocently. His daddy looked at him, his eyebrows raised as he adjusted Will’s hat to make sure his ears weren’t exposed.

“I’m not getting her a puppy.”

“Winston could use a friend.” Will argued passively, pulling on his last glove, trying not to get the string that connected them caught in his jacket zipper. His daddy smiled in spite of himself and Will felt a little glimmer of hope. He loved Winston, but he also loved puppies and he knew that his doggy deserved a friend.

Ten minutes later and they were driving through the snow that Will watched blow up towards the windows in the backseat of his daddy’s car, the Eagles singing ‘Take It Easy’ in the background. Will liked the snow, they never got any of it in Louisiana, even though it made his nose cold and meant he had to cover all of his curly hair with a beanie. He wondered briefly if Hannibal had to wear his hat with the flaps everytime it was cold, or if he also had a backup beanie.

“Are you at the car place today, daddy?” His daddy shook his head, reaching into his pocket for a new piece of grape -flavored bubblegum. Will was proud of his daddy that he hadn’t smoked since Halloween, but he didn’t understand why he liked grape bubblegum so much. Will thought it tasted like medicine! His daddy had figured that out pretty quickly though, and even now, handed Will a piece of Zebra Stripe gum he kept just in case. Will loved the gum, but was most excited about the tongue tattoos that came with the wrapper.

“Nope. We’re at the service station. I work the dealership on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and whenever they call me.” He said, and Will giggled, but tried to put that into his memory. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were easy enough to remember. Whenever they called was more difficult. What if his daddy was taking a bath when they called? What if it was like Thanksgiving break and Grandma answered the phone instead? What then? Will decided that since they were grown-ups, his daddy had probably figured that out.

“Okay, bud, you know the rules about coming to work right?” His daddy came around to help him out of the car, holding his hand so he didn’t slip on the ice, which Will appreciated since he didn’t think he had ever seen anything so slippery.

“Don’t touch anything unless you say to first. Don’t go far away where you can’t see me. Always ask before talking to people I don’t know.” Will recited.

“You’re missing one there, bud.” Will thought hard, his brain feeling like scrambled eggs for just a second.

“Have fun and be myself.” He finally said, smiling big.

“That’s right.” His daddy said, helping him out of his coat and running one hand through Will’s hair as he hung his beanie up on the hooks. “Let’s get started.”

 

 

“Remember, Hannibal, look for things you want for Christmas.” He walked next to Bedelia, on her side that wasn’t holding the green basket with her items she was picking out. It was another of Chiyoh’s days off, and Bedelia had decided that this was a good day to come Christmas shopping since she hadn’t gotten the opportunity. She had asked Hannibal where he wanted to go, and that was how they had ended up at the high-end outlet mall where Hannibal was surprised that they had seen several of Bedelia’s friends: all of whom had called him a ‘handsome little boy’ and were very touchy. He was not having as good a time as he thought.

Though he was now enjoying the bookstore, looking through all the different books and journals and pens and stationary that lined the shelves. He liked the strange looking man who wore a three-piece suit and funny glasses who had always snuck both him and Mischa pieces of chocolate from a bowl behind the counter with a not-so-secretive giggle. He was there now, drinking coffee out of cup shaped like a snowman, wearing a purple suit that matched Bedelia’s dress she had on. Hannibal wondered if she noticed.

Deciding what he wanted for Christmas was a difficult task. But he had a better idea this year, and then Bedelia and Bhiyoh would not have to decide for themselves what to get him. His father had been at the house that morning again, in very much the same way he had been when Hannibal was still going to school for the fall, only now, he had stayed all the way through his cup of coffee and Hannibal guessed he didn’t have to go to work. Bedelia hadn’t looked so apprehensive, but she was slower to answer his questions or make comments than usual, and Hannibal could see his father getting a little more and more frustrated since she had mainly stayed focused on Hannibal instead of on him.

He had, however, asked Hannibal what he wanted for Christmas. Hannibal had just looked at him and then had taken deliberate bites of porridge and fruit so as to have good reason to not answer him. Eventually, he had left, and half an hour later, he and Bedelia were coming shopping and, she had promised, out for lunch at the bistro nearby. Hannibal liked the bistro, they had delicious soup and one of the waitresses always commented on his hat when they came and it was cold outside. Like it was now, though his hat was in Bedelia’s purse while they were shopping. It would be rude to wear it indoors.

“They have all kinds of books, Hannibal, what are you interested in reading?”

He didn’t say anything, trying to think of a good answer. In truth, he could think of lots of things he would like to read about: being a doctor, being a chef, National Parks,, Europe, the president, he had even been talking to Will Graham about car motors as of late and even though it didn’t sound the most interesting, he would like to be able to have a conversation about it.

But now, faced with those books he could see, and the top two shelves that Bedelia had access to, he wasn’t sure what he wanted at all. He liked the way they smelled, although like most things, the smell was very strong to the point it was almost unpleasant.

“A cookbook.” He said. “And an atlas.”

If Bedelia found that surprising, she didn’t say anything, but instead nodded and started walking them that direction. “What about one of these?” She said, and he looked up to see books of poetry with smooth covers and elaborate backings. He looked at them, not knowing which ones to choose. After a moment, Bedelia reached and took one, putting it in the basket with a little smile. He thought that was okay, since Christmas was supposed to be a surprise.

He walked next to Bedelia carefully, looking around at the books, and almost didn’t notice when he walked right by Alana Bloom in the children’s section. She waved at him with her free hand, and Hannibal gave a shy wave back. She was with her mother, who was helping her look through what looked like Harry Potter books, and Hannibal watched them for just a moment. Her mother was holding her hand, talking softly and smiling at Alana as they looked through the books.

He looked up at Bedelia. Her hand was free. He looked down at his old hand as they got to the cookbooks. Would she hold his hand if he reached up to hold hers? He wasn’t sure, so he stuck his hand back in his pocket, just in case.

 

 

“Well, I think Mr. Lawson was impressed with your worth ethic, Will.” His daddy was laughing as he poured water over Will’s head, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. Will couldn’t see because his long hair was in his eyes, but he smiled through the water. His daddy had let him look at how to change oil with his daddy’s friend named Marco who had been strong enough to hold Will up and change the oil at the same time. Will however, much like Marco, had ended up covered in oil, and his later decision to help Paula clean up one of the shelves while his daddy worked on a lady’s tires, did not aid in the situation. IT was okay, though, he had enjoyed his shower and now extra-long bath to get everything off of him.

“He seems nice.” Will said, reaching up to push his hair off of his forehead. “I thought he would be more grumpy.” His daddy’s last boss had been a grumpy old man named Byron and Will had not liked him. Mr. Lawson seemed almost fun, and had taken a picture of Will holding up one of the oil and he had accidentally spilt on himself and had taken a picture to put on the wall of family photos they had hanging up in the garage. He had also said that Will could come back anytime as long as he took a bath first.

“He’s a good man.” His daddy agreed. Will raised his arms and legs patiently, while his daddy made sure he was clean all over before his daddy stood up to get him a towel. Will pulled the drain plug, grabbing the towel to wrap around himself like an adult, and followed his daddy back down to his room after he had drip-dried on the rug for a minute.

“Did you decide what to get Kathy?” He asked, pulling on underwear and a pair of jeans to eat dinner in. “Does she like car parts?” There seemed to be lots of extra car parts lying around at the service station, Will was sure Mr. Lawson would share.

“I’m sure she does, but that’s not quite what I had in mind.”

“What did you have in mind, daddy?” He pulled his ‘Pro Fisher’ shirt over his head, feeling his hair already start to poof into its curls.

“Here,” His daddy reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. “Tell me what you think.” Will thought his daddy looked a little nervous, and he decided that even if it was a bad idea, he would be supportive. He grabbed his glasses, pushing them far up on his nose, and unfolded what looked like a bit of magazine. On it was a beautiful picture of a bracelet with two beautiful charms on it, one that looked like a Christmas tree and one with a letter that it said you could get changed. He smiled.

“It’s beautiful, daddy,” He said, handing it back to him. “I think Kathy is a lucky woman.”

Through his laughing, his daddy said again that he and Grandma had to stop talking so much on the phone.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the great reaction to the idea of continuation, y'all! I'll be posting more about that soon! 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

Hannibal had found himself without many options. He was a little boy who had realized he was backed into a corner and had finally decided that rather than run or hide or stay quiet, he was going to take charge of what was happening. So he waited. And he helped Bedelia hand up the tasteful silver and blue ornaments on the small plastic tree so that it looked like a Christmas tree a rich lady might have in a movie. He tried to talk to her then, he really did. But his nerves go the better of him and he stayed quiet. He tried to ask her when she suggested they watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (in an effort for Hannibal to have better understood the sing-a-long), and even though it was clear neither of them were particularly enjoying it and sat with their hands folded in their lap for over an hour, he couldn’t make himself do it.

But the time had come now. He had come down for breakfast, and there stood his father. Only this time, he wasn’t in pajamas, and he wasn’t smiling. He and Bedelia were talking, her standing in front of a plate of food that Hannibal knew was destined for him on the counter, and he was arguing with her. “I won’t let you upset him like that.” He heard her say before they noticed him. “I won’t do it.”

“You can’t keep me from him, Bedelia. It’ll help toughen him up.”

“Him being tough isn’t the issue, here!”

“Hell, Bedelia, don’t get into all that psychology business. He’s a little boy! Our son! There’s nothing wrong with him!”

“I didn’t say there was. He needs help, not toughening up!” He was surprised Bedelia was defending him, but seeing her so strong, just like Selene said she was, gave him strength.

“Why are you here?” They turned like he had scared them, and Bedelia’s face fell into a mask of guilt while his father’s turned into a big smile.

“Hey, Hannibal.” He said, coming a step closer to him. “You’re up early.”

Hannibal shook his head. He always got up at this time. He had since it had just been him and Bedelia and Chiyoh. That way, none of them had to eat breakfast alone. With Chiyoh gone for the next week, it was especially important. “Why are you here?” he repeated, crossing his arms. “Why are you here a lot?” He added as an afterthought.

“This is our house, buddy.” He frowned. He didn’t like that nickname. Will’s daddy called him bud, but it sounded weird coming from his father’s mouth. He didn’t feel like his buddy at all. He shook his head.

“Me and Bedelia live here.” He looked over at her, surprised to see that instead of guilty or angry or anything else, she looked sad. “You don’t.” He added softly.

“Well, that’s changing.” His father said cheerfully.

“I never said that.” Bedelia interrupted him, now her eyes were cold. His father turned back around and laughed like he didn’t mean it. “You need to leave.”

“Excuse me,” He said, and Hannibal frowned again. His father was being so rude to Bedelia that he couldn’t help but ball up his fist in anger at him. “I just thought with everything that’s happened, that we might be reconciling.”

“Hannibal doesn’t want you here right now, you need to leave.”

His father grinned like he had just told a funny joke, looking back at Hannibal. “Is that true, buddy?” Hannibal said nothing. “I don’t think that’s true at all, Bedelia. He’s my son. Of course he wants me here.” He could feel the tension, Bedelia trying not to look at him.

“No.” He whispered, and they both turned. He saw the genuine surprise there for a moment. Followed by the anger that he could remember so well. But there were other things. Happy memories of swings and goodnight stories and even this past Thanksgiving with his father. He was afraid that if he told him to leave, he might not come back again. But another look at Bedelia told him all he needed to know. She needed him gone. And he was the only one who could make him leave. “I don’t.”

 

 

“If you had to choose between getting a puppy or a bracelet for Christmas, what would you pick?” Will kicked his legs over the couch cushions, letting them hit the fake leather with little taps. His daddy was at the car dealership, working on cars, and even thought Will was allowed to come with him, he had to stay in the waiting room. It was not as much fun as the service station, even if there were cartoons on the TV all the time and Tim who worked the front desk always got him juice whenever he had a thirst emergency. Now, after the elderly man in a soft green coat and corduroy pants had sat down with him in the waiting room and asked him about the book he was reading, he had finally found some good company.

The man, who had told him his name was Morgan, seemed to contemplate it. Will liked his beard, it was as white as the snow piling up on the camera, and stuck out even more against his dark brown skin. “I guess it depends. I’m not one for jewelry.”

“I told my daddy he needed to get his girlfriend a puppy, but he said no. My Grandma says a bracelet is probably best anyway, but I thought it would be good to get more opinions.” Will said, wishing he had brought a crayon and some paper to write the man’s answer down. He heard Tim giggle behind him, but was pretty sure it wasn’t about him.

“You know a lot for such a little fella.”

“I just got married and learned that it takes a lot to keep a relationship going.” His Grandma had said as much when they talked on the phone the day before and had suggested he call Hannibal, even if just to talk. His daddy said he could do that tomorrow since they were supposed to have dinner at Kathy’s house and his daddy didn’t think Hannibal would be up that late. He was glad he had his daddy to think of these things, because he would have been happy to call, even if it was past eight thirty. He was not sure, looking back at it, that Bedelia would be too happy about that. So tomorrow it was.

“Married?” The old man stroked his beard, smiling down at him. “I remember when I got married. Wasn’t much older than you, I suppose; all you youngins seem about the same age when you get to be this old.” The old man laughed at his own joke and Will smiled, even though he knew that not all people were the same age. If this man ever came to the elementary school, he would see that. Will was much younger than the other people except the preschoolers. Even the first graders were usually a lot taller! “We’re still together, and I’ve got to say you’re right. Takes a lot. Lot of trust. Lot of work.”

“My Grandma says its worth it in the end.”

“Your Grandma sounds like a smart lady.”

“She is. She’s the smartest lady I know.” Will paused for a second, “What are you getting done to your car?”

“Oh, the usual. Getting the oil changed, tires rotated. Meant to do it sooner, but time got away from me, ya see.” Will did not see, but he nodded his head in agreement. Maybe his daddy was fixing this nice man's car right now. “Now, about this puppy and bracelet business: does this lady like dogs?”

Will nodded his head. Kathy had seemed to like Winston well enough, Will had even seen her sneak him a bite of chicken with a wink at Will to keep it a secret. He could ask his daddy, as he was sure that dogs were a frequent topic of conversation for him and Kathy.

“But does she want one?” Will frowned. He wasn’t so sure. “Seems to me it might be rude to get her one if she doesn’t want it.” The old man said, and Will felt his heart fall a little. “I would stick to the bracelet.”

He sighed a little. “You’re probably right.”

“Son, I’ve gotten my wife jewelry for the better part of forty years and not once has she complained.” He said, looking over at him, looking over at him.

“I got my husband a deer.” Will said, being met with a smile and a twinkling eye, “He loved it.”

He decided not to let hope for Kathy’s puppy go away too soon.

 

 

Hannibal had gone back to his room after his father left, and it hadn’t taken long before he had cried quietly into the pillowcase that Will’s Grandma had made for him once he realized what had happened. Not even Bedelia making her rich, delicious hot chocolate had been able to get him out of bed, even though she always made it special for him. Instead, he had sniffled and buried himself deeper into the pillow where he couldn’t see her face and could pretend he couldn’t hear her talking.

Finally, after his room started to get dark with the outside, he thought she had left and he could cry in peace. But it wasn’t so. Instead, he felt her come into his room and let out a soft sigh. She touched his shoulder, and then, like she hadn’t done since before Mischa was gone and he would fall asleep at the kitchen table, she wrapped him up in her arms, lifting him out of bed. He clung to her, knowing her was getting her pajamas wet with tears, but not caring since she didn’t. She put him in her bed and pulled fresh blankets up to this chin before climbing in next to him. He snuggled against her and she ran her fingers through his hair as he kept crying softly. He realized then that she knew what had happened. Probably hadn’t expected it.

His father had made him choose. And he had chosen her.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayeee, and we're back. We'll be getting back into school in the next couple of chapters, so no worries there if you've been missing it! 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for your all's support, I love you guys and you keep me writing! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

“Hello, this is Will Graham speaking. I was wanting to ask if you could please let me speak to Hannibal Lecter.” He sat on the couch, the big landline phone in his hand, petting Winston. He was a little nervous, the only person he ever talked to on the phone was his Grandma, and he and his daddy both agreed that Grandma could usually carry a conversation by herself. He was a little more shy, like his daddy, and he was used to being able to see people’s faces when he talked.

“Hello, Will.” It was Bedelia. He let out a sigh of relief, at least he knew her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing pretty good.” He answered thoughtfully. “I’ve been going to work with my daddy. We’re going back to the service station today, but he’s in the shower right now so I thought it would be best to call now.”

“Well,” And he heard Bedelia make a soft noise, almost like she was trying not to laugh, “That was very smart of you. Hannibal is right here.” He heard a little pause of silence as the phone was passed off and he swallowed his nervous excitement.

“Hello.” He heard a familiar, soft voice from the other end and oculdn’t help but smile.

“Hannibal!” He hadn’t meant to be so loud, and Winston looked up from his midmorning nap in confusion. He also gave the room a scan, clearly looking to see if Hannibal was close by, laying his head down in disappointment when he wasn’t. Winston clearly did not understand how phones worked. That was okay, Will really didn’t either. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve miss you, too.” He could tell Hannibal was smiling on the other side. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting on my daddy to get out of the shower so that we can go to work. I’ve been going with him the last few days.”

“Where does your daddy work?”

“A couple of different places. Today we’re going to the service station with Mr. Lawson and Marco and Paula; we were at the dealership yesterday with Tim the secretary and a bunch of people I don’t know. Then, he’s been working at a Christmas tree lot sometimes. I like it, there are big candy canes everywhere.” It was great, Will decided, to talk to someone who listened as intently as Hannibal. But he wanted to know what he had been up to as well. “What are you doing?”

“Bedelia and I have done a lot of shopping the last few days.” He said, and Will could see he was thinking. He paused for a long second, but Will waited patiently, giving Winston a little scratch. “Hold on one second.”

“Okay.” Will said, but Hannibal didn’t move the phone away from his face, so Will heard everything.

“May I be excused for a few minutes?” He asked, and heard a garbled response into the receiver from Bedelia. He heard a chair move and Hannibal’s breathing for a little bit before finally his voice came through again.

“Will?” He said, so quiet Will almost didn’t hear him. “Sorry, I didn’t want to upset Bedelia.”

“What’s going on, Hannibal?” He said, more than a little worried. He was glad his daddy was taking his sweet time in the shower, he didn’t want him to get upset either. He was almost compelled to cover Winston’s ears, just in case.

“My father was here again yesterday.” Hannibal started, and Will could hear him take in a deep breath. “He was being rude to me and to Bedelia. I---I told him to leave.”

“Good!” Said Will, feeling the same righteous indignation he had felt in the parking lot when he had first met Hannibal’s father. “Did he leave?”

“Yes.” Hannibal said, “But then I was sad and Bedelia was sad.” He let out a loud sigh. “It has been a difficult day.”

“It sounds like it.” Will agreed, wishing Hannibal could have been having a happy break.

“I wish you could come over and stay for the night.”

“Me, too!” Said Will. He had told Kathy last night at dinner that he wanted to go back to Hannibal’s house for the night. Not that he didn’t love hanging out with his daddy and even with her, but he missed Hannibal. They were married after all, and he was pretty sure that was what was supposed to happen. She had agreed with him and told him that was very sweet of him to want to see Hannibal. She had also made delicious chicken and dumplings which gave her a mark-up in Will’s book. “My daddy’s girlfriend Kathy thinks that would be nice for us.”

“Your daddy has a girlfriend?” Hannibal asked, his voice piqued with curiosity. “What is she like?”

“She’s really smart!” He said, “She teaches at the Adult Education Center and has two college degrees and everything. I asked her about it, it sounded pretty cool. She makes good chicken and dumplings. She likes dogs. She likes you even though you haven’t met her because I talk about you a lot. She’s a good supporter of our marriage.”

“Woah.” Hannibal all but whispered. Will thought about the night before. His daddy had combed his hair more times than Will had ever seen, putting on one of his nicest shirts that Will had helped him pick out because it had made his eyes pop as Grandma always said. (Will had even dressed intentionally a little more plainly than he normally would to try and impress so that his daddy looked even nicer.) One of the men at the Christmas Tree lot apparently grew chrysanthemums and on their way to Kathy’s house, they had stopped to pick up some for his daddy to give her. Will was very impressed with his daddy’s level of planning since he sometimes forgot very simple things like remembering to make a grocery list before they went shopping.

He had given her the flowers, and Will had watched his face burn red when she had gushed just the right amount of them, giving him a little kiss that didn’t bother Will in the slightest. He was proud of his daddy for taking a chance with the flowers: what if Kathy hadn’t liked chrysanthemums? He was glad Kathy had reacted so well, and that she had been so nice when he had finished taking off his snow boots and had given him a little hug before setting him up with cartoons and book called the _Grapes of Math_ before she and his daddy had finished making dinner.

“Is Bedelia dating anyone?” He asked, wondering if anyone had brought her flowers, or if she had taken any to anyone.

“I don’t think so.” Hannibal said, but his voice sounded different, “Or at least, not anyone that I have seen.”

“That’s okay.” Will said, “My Grandma isn’t dating anyone, either.” He could almost picture Hannibal nodding his agreement. He heard the shower turn off and realized that he wasn’t wearing his snow clothes.

“I’ve got to go get dressed. If you want to do a sleepover, just have Bedelia call my daddy. We’re at the service station right outside our neighborhood.” He said thoughtfully, wondering what Paula would do if Bedelia called. The thought was just a little funny, so he giggled to himself. He could explain to Hannibal later. “Bye, Hannibal!”

“Bye, Will!”

 

 

Hannibal climbed into the backseat of Bedelia’s Bentley, waiting on her to get situatuted before he started asking questions. She had just gotten off the phone with Will’s daddy and the two of them were picking him up for a day spent at the movies, at the mall, and a night at Hannibal’s house. Bedelia had assured him they had extra pajamas and an extra toothbrush for Will, and after only a little convincing, his daddy had been fine with letting them come and pick him up from work.

“Bedelia.” He said, and she looked up into the rearview mirror where she could see him. “Are you and father dating?”

“Not any longer.” She answered, and he frowned.

“So you were dating?”

“Yes.” She sighed. He wondered if this was a normal conversation that people had with their parents. Will Graham seemed to have talked to his daddy about dating a lot, so maybe it was just this uncomfortable for everyone.

“Are you going to date him again?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She tapped the steering Will as they pulled out of their neighborhood. “Why are you asking me these things, Hannibal?”

“Will’s daddy is dating Kathy and he told me that he took her flowers and came over sometimes.” Hannibal had thought, when Will said that, back to the strange vases of flowers that had turned up in the living room after his father had been there. The quiet conversations he and Bedelia seemed to be having before he got there. It all seemed very indicative of two people who were dating. “I thought it might be the same thing.” He added quietly.

“Oh, Hannibal,” She sighed. “I promise it isn’t. That time is over now, okay, you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“He’s my father.” Hannibal said, “I didn’t think I was supposed to worry about him in the first place.”

But the conversation ended as they pulled up into the service station parking lot to find a very puffy-looking Will Graham wrapped in layers of winter clothing, his hair curling out under his beanie, and his daddy who wasn’t even wearing a jacket but whose arms were covered in thick bands of grease, holding a wrench, waiting for them to pick him up.

“Bye, daddy.” He heard Will say as he climbed into the back. Bedelia took a minute to talk to Will’s daddy, though not too long because it was so cold and leaving the window down made it colder.

“You’re wearing your hat!” Will said and smiled up at Hannibal’s hat. Hannibal blushed, glad that Will like it since sometimes it got him strange looks from people.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Hannibal said. And he hadn’t realized how glad until Will had climbed in the car. He was exhausted. He needed his friend. He reached out a hand, feeling the rough texture of Will’s small mittens on a string under his leather gloves, and held his hand until they pulled into the movies.

He couldn’t help but smile when all Will did was blush a little and squeeze his hand a little tighter.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of the follow up will be coming soon-ish! Got a few more chapters of this to-go, and then that'll get rolling! Thank you all for continuing to read your support means a lot!   
> As always, I hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

“What is it?” Will looked over at Hannibal over the bowl of porridge and berries Bedelia had made for them. Hannibal was looking out the window, and Will followed his gaze, seeing Will’s daddy’s car pull in the driveway.  “Oh,” He said, eating a raspberry, “That’s Kathy.” He hadn’t been expecting her to be here with his daddy, but he wasn’t complaining. Maybe Kathy and his daddy had had a sleepover like him and Hannibal.

It had been a lot of fun, too! They had gone to the movies, which Will hadn’t done since his Grandma used to babysit him in Louisiana. Then, apparently Bedelia had wanted assistance in choosing a nice gift for Chiyoh, so they had all three gone to the mall. Will had suggested she get Chiyoh a set of fly fishing equipment at the Outdoor World outlet, and with enough suggesting it, Hannibal had agreed. Bedelia, however, had decided on a set of Candlesticks from Pottery Barn and a new Sweater from a store that Will wasn’t sure how to pronounce, though it had lots of clothes that it looked like Bedelia would wear often.

Then Bedelia had taken them to dinner at a restaurant Will hadn’t been to before, but was going to recommend his daddy take Kathy to at some point since it was so nice. Even though he had the macaroni and cheese, it was delicious and it seemed like they had lots of grown up food and cloths on the table and everything. After they had gotten home, he and Hannibal were both so tired that they only stayed up for a little while talking, pretending to be asleep when Bedelia would walk by Hannibal’s room, until they had accidentally fallen asleep for real. Will had woken up before Hannibal, who was talking in his sleep about something Will didn’t understand. But he hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop, so he had dressed, put his blanket on top of Hannibal so he would be extra warm and had come downstairs to sit with Bedelia for a while, who listed to him talk about his daddy and Kathy and Grandma and Winston and school and books and Hannibal until Hannibal had come down too, and she had left to make porridge. Bedelia was good to talk to, he decided, and he was glad she had gotten to talk to someone other than Hannibal’s daddy.

Will heard his daddy knock on the door with a loud bang, and Bedelia hurry to answer it, the rush of cold coming into the house making both Will and Hannibal shiver. “I wish you didn’t have to go.” Said Hannibal, frowning and talking soft.

“Me, too.” Agreed Will, patting him on the hand, “But Kathy will freeze out there in the car if I don’t!” He said seriously, and Hannibal nodded in solemn agreement.

“Hi, daddy!” Will said, climbing down and taking his plate over to the sink. His daddy’s face was red from being cold and he giggled as the man stood in front of the door, not wanting to track snow inside of Hannibal’s house.

“Hey, bud, you ready to head home?” Will nodded, pulling on his shoes. “How are you doing, Hannibal?”

Will looked up. Hannibal looked petrified, but was also looking at Will’s daddy almost starry-eyes with admiration. “I’m okay.” He said, doing his best to give a smile which Will recognized as one of his shy smiles when he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well,” Will’s daddy said, and gave him a wink, “You’ll have to come over at school starts. It’ll be Will’s birthday in January.”

Will had almost forgotten about his own birthday! What an exciting time!

“That sounds very nice, Mr. Graham.” Hannibal said, his face turning bright red with embarrassment, but he smiled real big.

“Bye, Hannibal.” Will said, and made sure to give him a hug before they ventured out to save Kathy from the freezing of the car.

 

 

Will decided he like Frisch’s because they had fried bologna on the breakfast bar and because Paula from the car dealership was also the brunch hostess. She had talked to him first before even talking to his daddy, and even though he was shy about it, she was very nice! She had been very happy to see Kathy and had even, at Will’s request, given them the window table so that he could see the snow easiest. He also had a whole booth side to himself since his daddy had sat with Kathy so that they could hold hands.

“How come you were with daddy this morning?” Will asked, only after he had taken several bites of bologna and pancakes.

“Kathy and I had dinner together last night, bud.” His daddy said, and Will could see his ears getting red to match his flannel. “She offered to come with me to pick you up.”

Will raised an eyebrow, there was a lot of time between dinner and breakfast. That’s why people got hungry to begin with. But he decided he wouldn’t question it, if only because his daddy was getting embarrassed for unknown reasons. “I wanted to treat you and your daddy to a nice breakfast,” added Kathy, who was the only person Will had seen cut fried eggs with a knife. He wondered if Hannibal had ever eaten a fried egg, he seemed the type to also use a knife.

“That’s very nice of you.” Said Will, and his daddy suppressed a laugh.

“You know, Will, you’re very polite for a kindergartner.” She said, taking a sip of coffee. Unlike his daddy, she put cream and sugar into hers. Will thought that made it look very pretty. “I don’t know where you get that from, certainly not from Kit.” Will giggled at his daddy’s affronted look, but his daddy was smiling too, rolling his eyes in the same way he did when Will was being silly.

“It must be from my Grandma.” Will said, finishing his bite of bologna with great care. “Even though she says she’s a Hellraiser for sure.”

Will decided he liked Kathy’s laugh, too.

 

“Did Chiyoh teach you to use the hand-mixer?” It had been a couple of days since Will had been over, and Hannibal was glad to have something to do with himself. Bedelia was having her annual Christmas gathering and while for the last two, Chiyoh had taken him into town while Bedelia entertained, this year, she seemed happy to have him on board. He had offered to make her cookies (with adult supervision of course) and after some hesitating, she had allowed it.

But the electric mixer was a bear. He was tall enough he could stir with a spoon or whisk, but to use the hand-mixer, he needed the chair. Instead of answering Bedelia, which would have just wasted his time, he began pushing over his chair from the dining room, clipping in the beaters and going to town on the meringue topping they had mixed to top the cookies. Usually, it was Chiyoh who accompanied him in the kitchen, but now it was Bedelia since Chiyoh was busy instructing the crew who were decorating the rest of the house on where all of Bedelia’s fancy tables and chairs went. Chiyoh had informed him, however, that there was red and green food coloring in the cabinets and that the cookies would surely benefit from a little Christmasy cheer. Bedelia, while not seeming too enthused about that at first, had mixed up the dyes for him and the two bowls would be ready to go as soon as he could get the eggs into stiff peaks.

“I guess she does.” But he could tell Bedelia was nervous because she held onto him as the mixer rocked him where he stood in the chair. She gripped right above his hips, holding him steady. He smiled, it was nice to have her helping him.

“You know,” She said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been able to make a meringue that didn’t get all over my clothing.”

Hannibal smiled, and then looked down slightly at her. “Here,” he said, “You can try if you want to.” But instead of taking it from him, she out her hand over his, helping guide it around the bowl as the peaks started to form. She leaned her head on his arm, and he was happy to help Bedelia with her first successfully meringue.

Only, it didn’t end as smoothly as he planned. Bedelia pulled the beaters out too quick and one glob of meringue landed right on Hannibal’s nice jacket. They both looked at it for second, and did nothing. He could almost feel the worry coming from Bedelia.

In an odd moment, one he would blame on Will Graham for doing the same thing with the cake batter they had used once, he took a finger and wiped it off, popping it into his mouth. Bedelia stared at him, her eyes wide before she started laughing. He laughed too as he climbed down from his chair.

“Maybe we need a doggy like Winston,” He said, pushing his chair back to the table. “He likes to lick up messes.” Bedelia just laughed again and got out the decorating bags for the cookies so they could pipe their jointly-made meringue onto them.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, everyone, this concludes the first part of their story! The next piece will be a brief high school interlude followed by post-grad life, all posted as one piece of about the same length as this one. I hope you all read that one as well, thank you so much for your continuing support of this story, I love y'all, and your kudos, comments, replies, and continuous enjoyment have been amazing. I added the poem with original author at the end of the text. It's definitely worth a read, the imagery and sentimentality of it is gorgeous. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I apologize for the brevity, and I hope to hear from you soon! :D

“Welcome back, everyone!” Mr. Crawford boomed form the fornt of the class. The whole room had been redecorated from planets and space to the forest. Right now, all the little trees it looked like Mr. Crawford had made out of paper were frosted with paper snow and glitter. Hannibal wasn’t sure how he felt about glitter: on the one hand, it was very pretty, on the other, it stuck to everything and no matter how much he showered or washed his hands. The worst had been trying to get all of it out of the Christmas tree skirt after Bedelia’s Christmas gathering: an event that was fun until the clean-up had devolved into glitter and meringue covered frustration until he and Bedelia had given up and they had called the man from the carpet cleaning office to come and take care of things. It was a good thing he had come, because one of Bedelia’s friends had spilled a lot of wine on the carpet and thought it was okay to cover it with a rug. Bedelia said that they were going to have a talk.

He put his new notebook on his desk. He had almost completely filled up his notebook with the chef, and Bedelia, true to her word, had gotten him a brand new one. Except, in addition to the mouse chef from Ratatouille (one of the only animated movies he really liked), the insides of his journal now had maps, marked with something called time zones and latitudes and longitudes. He wished they had kept the dictionary long enough for him to get to “L”, since these were very complicated things to figure out on his own. There was a map of America, where he had pointed out to Bedelia that he knew where Maryland was, and it even had Baltimore marked on the map! She had seemed very proud. On the next page though, there was a whole picture of the Earth, laid out with all the time zones and all the other lines and the countries. And Bedelia had helped him find Lithuania, where senele was hopefully having a very good Christmas.

He had showed Will that morning, who seemed as excited as he was, even though he seemed a little tired. Will had a new beanie that pulled down a little further over his ears. It was bright purple and had a tiger on the front with an LSU. He said his Grandma had brought it up from her house, along with some new pants, which he was wearing. They had deeper pockets. Hannibal was very happy for him, it was difficult sometimes to keep all of his things in his small pockets. Especially if he was carrying around pens to write in his journal when his shoulder bag wouldn’t hold them.

He was happy to see everyone else, too; Alana had smiled at him with a little wave when he came in, one of her front teeth missing. Brian and Jimmy and Beverly had been excited by his new notebook. Franklyn had given him a very constricting hug, much to Tobias’ annoyance.

It was time to get started again, though, and Mr. Crawford was handing them out the free lunch calendars they got for every month, and even though he never ate lunch, he liked that it had all the dates on it.

“Hannibal,” He heard Will whisper. He glanced over, even though Mr. Crawford was still speaking, and he saw Will’s hand between the desks, his little ring glinting on the room lights. He waited, but Will wasn’t looking at him. He looked down for just a second at his own hand, his own ring catching the light. Then he reached down and took Will’s in his own, watching the smile come across his face, even as he kept listening to Mr. Crawford.

Hannibal smiled, too. It was going to be a good rest of kindergarten, he thought.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
What You'd Find Buried Under Charles F. Kettering, Sr. High School  
by: Francine J. Harris

blood:  
soaked and caked on white socks, on blue mesh net t-shirts.  
the band leader’s blue baton and drum sticks.  
matchbook sulfur spilled over newport cigarette butts.  
condoms in a few dull shades. tenth-grade chemistry books  
modeling atomic fatty acids.  
half-sucked orange dum-dums tucked under detention slips.  
pictures from black hair cut out for pre-beautician consensus.  
broken black glitter belts with pink buckles shaped like lips.  
candle wax from last year’s vigil when  
de’andre “chucky” brown collapsed in the arms of his  
teammate. the teammate’s shoe prints rocking back and forth  
where the vigil was held, biting his lip.  
broken cellphones. pieces of the black rubber mat  
below the entrance way, which we crossed every morning,  
teeth clenched. notes of consent that girls wrote, but didn’t mean  
and wish they hadn’t passed back.  
broken teeth. lost retainers. crumpled letters written to counselors  
and discarded for illegible handwriting. phone lists of  
abortion clinics. deflated valentine’s day balloons with  
trampled white ribbon. sales ads on bassinette sets.  
my first boyfriend’s piano scarf. a phyllis hymen  
album cover. the path from the  
exit door behind the school through which certain boys  
would not see certain girls leave.  
torn up progress reports.  
brass knuckles. two  
afro picks on opposite sides of the school. germs on a hall pass  
from a boy holding his crotch.  
rusty rebar dust. pigeon bones. stolen phone numbers.  
d.o.t. bus passes from 1960, the year of the groundbreaking.  
suspended driver’s licenses. broken glasses from ice  
packed into snowballs. unread pamphlets on  
charles f. kettering, a farmer with bad eyesight,  
who invented the electric starter  
and an incubator for preemies.  
possum tails. original scores. balled up journal entries  
written and torched, detailing abuses. genital fluids.  
dna. envelopes from letters of acceptance  
to states far away. math teachers’ stolen answer keys  
torn and burned by cigarette lighters.  
cigarette lighters. hundreds of mcdonald’s  
fries containers because they flatten easily. weed.  
imitation diamonds from homecoming tiaras  
encrusted in shit-colored mud. research papers on kettering  
detailing his treatments for  
venereal disease  
which involved heating up patients in thermal cabinets  
until their body temperatures fevered at 130 degrees.  
teachers’ red pen marks on essay papers detailing abuses.  
empty sprint cards.  
a splint a football captain  
was supposed to be wearing but decided made him look gay.  
a fat boys tape. pieces of torn blue and white starter jackets  
from the way boys wrestled each other  
to the ground in spring.  
my first poetry journal. pages of its poems  
embossed with patterns of early name-brand gym shoes.  
crumpled suicide notes written in pencil and scorched with ashes.  
lost house keys. pictures of first crushes. bullets.  
unpublished articles by frustrated teachers  
who briefly looked into research findings,  
using the charles f. kettering instrument of school  
climate assessment detailing the psychological impact  
on students from external stressors normally associated  
with adulthood domestic patterns of abuse. fat shoelaces.  
bullet casings. a jim beam whiskey flask that the old principal ditched  
thinking someone was coming.  
my last boyfriend’s lesson plan elaborately structured  
on the back  
of a comic book. imprints of my mother’s modest heel  
from crossing the barren frontal square at my graduation.  
free press articles on unnamed minors whose bodies were found  
in dumpsters near kettering. the crystallized block formed  
from the tissue my father handed me at graduation  
for tears i couldn’t explain.


End file.
